


Taken, Bruised

by leonheart2012



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Anguished Hank, Creepy weird dude, I'm Sorry, Innards Tinkering, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Control, OOC, PTSD, Rape, Rumored Trans Gavin, Synthetic penis, Traumatized Connor, Unwanted blowjob, Unwanted handjob, god this is so bad, not finished
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 00:03:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16185953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonheart2012/pseuds/leonheart2012
Summary: Connor gets taken by a group of android traffickers and gets an 'upgrade'.





	1. The bit I've written

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry in advance. All of them are so out of character they're barely recognizable and there's so much hurt/comfort at the end it may as well be a fluff fic, but I'm kinda proud of it? Hope you all enjoy.

Hank sighed, pushing his face into his hands.

“You okay?” Connor asked, in his usual stupid voice.

“Yeah. Just tired.” He replied. He looked up and was startled to see that Connor’s chair was empty. Then, he remembered.

Just yesterday, he and Connor had been working on a case, on the trail of a gang that were trading in androids illegally.

Then, Connor had been kidnapped. Hank’s heart clenched. He wished he was at the head of the investigation, but he was too close to the case. He’d been metaphorically chained to his desk – because Fowler had threatened to literally do it – until Connor was found. Hank just hoped that he would be found in one piece; and still himself.

 

Blinking, Connor tried to access...something, but he was unable to reach out. He realised there must be a dark zone around this place. The door to the room opened, and Connor looked over.

“So, I hear you’re an investigator with the police.” The man said, approaching slowly.

Connor didn’t say anything, just shrank back against the wall. He wasn’t about to get his memory wiped, or cut apart like he’d heard, and seen, happened to some who were taken. All he wanted was to get back to Hank. Something malfunctioned and he felt a squeezing sensation in his chest.

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ve got some other plans for you.” The man said, who hadn’t stopped talking. “We first want to outfit you with some new hardware, then we’re gonna upload some new software, and finally, we’re gonna ransom you back to the police. After all, we need a spy.” The man walked even closer, so Connor caught a glimpse of his face.

He was handsome, not at all what Connor had been expecting, but he had a nasty scar running down his face. “We’re going to have to wipe your memory of us, of course, but we’ll be able to tap into your audio and visual feeds. We’ve been working long and hard on this, you know. You should be...honoured that you’re going to be the one to have it. The one-of-a-kind becomes even more special.”

The man chuckled as if he’d made a joke, then left the room. Connor slid down the wall, hands shaking. _They do that?_ Connor thought dumbly. He registered he was in shock and under tremendous amounts of stress, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Without realising it, he started to cry, his shoulders shaking. Curling into a ball, Connor let himself, for the first time, feel real, pure fear.

 

Hank unlocked his front door with a sigh. His bones ached. His head was pounding. He hoped Connor had made something – but no, he wouldn’t have, because he hadn’t had a day off. He was kidnapped, hidden away who knows where, where unspeakable things were probably happening to him, and…

Sumo bounded into the hall, barking softly and running circles around Hank’s legs.

“Woah! Easy there, Sumo!” Hank laughed as he petted the Saint Bernard’s fur. Memories of Connor snuggled up on the couch with Sumo hit Hank like a train, and his knees buckled. Had he really gotten so fond of the android? Looking deep into Sumo’s eyes, he found the answer; yes, he had.

Swallowing, Hank decided not to bother going anywhere else. He’d slept on the floor enough times to not be worried about it. Reaching up and locking the door, Hank closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep.

 

The door slammed open, jerking Connor back to wakefulness. He cowered as three hulking figures entered the room. He fought their grasping hands, but they were stronger than he was. He was dragged into another room, where he was strapped to a table.

The same voice from yesterday filled his ears. “So good to see you, Connor.” A gloved hand extended into his field of vision. “Now, to outfit you with this new hardware. I realise that you mightn’t be happy with some of the things we’re giving you, so I’ve decided to give you a present, too.” The hand retreated, only to come back holding a pelvic attachment. “I know you must be curious, Connor. You’ve never experienced sexual pleasure. Well, this will allow you to. It has sensors all over it. I’m told it’ll feel exactly like the real thing.”

Connor felt a pressure at his hips, and tried to squirm away, but the straps held him in place. He was trapped. _Am I...am I going to be raped? What are they doing?_

Distress caused Connor’s processors to overload with sensory information. He was receiving too much data, and the lights seemed so bright. They were blinding him, and his audio processors were screeching, making his head pound. Connor pulled his arms up as far as they would go, feeling the light scratch of the restraints.

Sensation flooded to Connor’s hips again as the pelvic attachment slid into place. “There. Doesn’t that feel nice, Connor?”

Connor felt something soft and heavy resting against his thigh. It was...strange. He hoped that he could remove it later. It wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“Ah, I can see you’re unsure. But you’ll come to love it.” The voice faded slightly, and a door was opened. “Jerry, there you are. Come in, I have a job for you.”

Fear jolted Connor’s biocomponents. “No. No, don’t.”

“Oh, relax, Connor, it’ll feel good. Jerry used to be a sex bot. In fact, it think he was at that Eden Club where the two deviant girls were from. Go ahead, Jerry.”

Something vaguely warm and rough slipped over the new attachment, and Connor squirmed at the unfamiliar feeling.

“See? It feels good, right?” The man didn’t wait for an answer. “He’s going to make you feel even better while I get all the other upgrades into your system, alright, Connor?”

Connor made a noise in the back of his throat, wanting it to be a growl, but it turned into a whimper as Jerry did something with his hand that made Connor see stars.

“Alright. We’re going to be fiddling a little with your tracker here. Want to make sure no one but us can find you, eh, Connor?” The man continued to murmur quietly to Connor as he worked. For forty seven minutes and thirteen seconds, Connor felt hands moving around inside his cavities, pulling things out and plugging them back in. He could feel that these were practised hands; both sets of them. Jerry had kept Connor on the edge of release the entire time.

The man whispered something to Jerry and the android doubled his efforts, pulling Connor over the edge and making him black out.

 

Hank woke with a crick in his neck. He rolled around on the floor, expecting Connor to be there, berating him for drinking so much he passed out in the hallway. But the house was quiet...and Hank was sure he hadn’t been drinking…

“Connor?” Hank called, stumbling into the bathroom and wincing at his dishevelled appearance. “Connor, get up, we’ve gotta - “

The memory slapped him in the face, making him fall against the sink. It was like losing Cole all over again. The mornings waking up, expecting him to be there. Walking into his room, to wake him up, only to find his bed empty and cold. Sinking down onto the mattress, crying, calling work to say he couldn’t come in again. Already, he felt his hand reach for his phone, about to call and say he couldn’t come in. But where else would he go? Connor would say…

“Fuck.” Hank groaned, manoeuvring himself int the shower, standing under the hot spray.

His shower didn’t do anything for him, and Hank once again seriously considered calling in sick. After all, he was forbidden from doing anything other than desk work. He could do that from home. He looked in the mirror and looked across his post-it notes. Connor had joked about them more than once. The memories made him feel even worse.

Reaching for his phone, he made a decision. It rang three times before Fowler picked up. “Can I stay home today?”

“Absolutely not, Hank. I need you here, where I can keep an eye on you.” Fowler growled down the phone. “I know how much you care about him, and I need to know for sure you’re not leading your own investigation.”

“Come on, please? I can’t stand looking at his empty chair.”

“And I understand that, but I can’t have you out of the precinct at the moment. I’ve asked Gavin to lead the investigation, and I know he doesn’t really like Connor, but he’ll do his job. You just need to trust him.”

Hank sighed. He knew Fowler was talking sense, but he didn’t want to admit it. “Alright, fine.”

“See you soon, Hank.”

 

Gavin rubbed his face. He hadn’t slept for almost two days. Tina looked over at him from his couch. “You’re not going to get anywhere by overworking yourself.”

“Hank’s gonna kill me.”

“You’ll kill yourself before he gets the chance, Gavin. Go to bed. I’ll keep looking over the files.” She gently pushed him through the door, keeping the pressure up until he was lying down on his bed.

He tried to get back up, but Tina pushed him down again. “Don’t make me give you sleeping pills, Gav. You know I will. You need rest.”

Gavin groaned and rolled over. Against his will, his eyelids slid closed, and he fell into a deep sleep.

Tina folded her arms and just watched him for a minute. They’d been friends for as long as she had been in the precinct. Gavin had taken her under his wing from the second she’d walked through the door. Some of the other cops had given her a hard time, but Gavin had stood up for her. She was almost positive that he was trans, but she’d never asked; it wasn’t that important anyway.

She knew him well enough to know he wanted Connor back not just to please Hank. He cared more than he led on.

Sighing, she went back into the living room and looked over Lieutenant Anderson’s report of the incident.

_We were close, closing in on the den, when they set off an ambush. They’d somehow found out we were coming. They fired guns, but they weren’t aiming at us. Their real target was Connor. They kept me pinned down as they closed in on him. He fought them, but there were too many of them. They dragged him away, loading him into an unmarked van. They knocked me into unconsciousness. When I woke, they were gone._

Tina had been there when he’d relayed the information. He’d looked...completely and utterly distraught. His face had been drawn and tight, his eyes tired. Tina shivered at the memory. If she never saw that face again, it would be too soon.

Putting it aside, she picked up the pictures they’d taken at the scene where Connor was taken. They’d gotten almost nothing, though. With every passing hour, it was looking less likely that Connor would be found again. Closing her eyes, Tina sent up a silent prayer that Connor was doing alright.

 

Connor shivered on the floor of the room he was in, hoping that someone would find him before they had time to wipe his memory. While he didn’t want to remember any of this, he wanted these people to be apprehended.

The door banged open, and Connor felt his chest squeeze again, only to drop to his stomach when he heard the smooth voice that haunted his dreams.

“Good morning, Connor. Time for your software updates. Unfortunately, we need to connect to the internet...and you need to be conscious. Just so you know, though, we’ve been watching your partner.” A hand holding a tablet extended into the beam of sunlight filtering through the ceiling, and Connor warily took it.

As the tablet responded to the movement, an image of Hank’s house showed up on the screen. Connor swiped and the image changed to one of Hank sleeping just inside his door. It was taken from outside the house, but the message was clear.

“As you can see, we can do anything we like to him if you reach out, Connor. Be a good boy, won’t you?”

Connor didn’t say anything. The man prompted. “Connor?”

“Yes. I won’t contact anyone.”

“Good.”

Only one person came to escort him, but Connor knew that the threat stood for any attempt at escape. Defeat wormed its way into his mind, making his feet drag. Tomorrow, he knew, they would wipe his memory and then put him up on the market, making sure the police saw him. What could he do to prevent it?

Connor was led outside, into the sunlight, and his sensors were overloaded by the brightness after being kept in the dark for so long. There was a table and two chairs set up, one with straps on the arms.

“Do you really have to strap me down?”

“Sorry, Connor, but some of the programs...well, they’re not exactly pleasant uploads. They won’t hurt, but they’re not something that you want. Some of them show up as viruses in your system. That’s mostly because they are, but it’s nothing to worry about, Connor. Nothing will harm you.”

Connor wasn’t reassured, but let himself be strapped into the chair. “Alright, we’re going to put you online now, Connor. Remember, be a good boy.”

“Yes.”

A few computer keys were tapped, and Connor felt his awareness shift and expand. In seconds, he knew exactly where he was, and contemplated sending the coordinates to the police, but the image of Hank made him hesitate, and the opportunity was gone as files began downloading into his hard drive.

The software was indeed worrying. There was a program that looked just like one big bug, but was designed to listen in to conversations he had. Warnings flashed in Connor’s vision, making him exceedingly worried.

“Almost done, Connor. We just have to erase your memories of these past few days.”

“Wait, what? So soon?”

“Oh, were you enjoying your stay here, Connor? Sorry, but we have to get you back out there. We’re missing out on lots of information already.”

“They won’t let me back on the force. They’ll expect something like this.” Connor said, desperately struggling against his restraints.

“Oh, Connor. This is why we needed to strap you down. They’ll suspect it; of course they will, but this is all undetectable. Even if another android looks over you, they won’t be able to tell the difference. And we’ve placed decoy changes and programs in. We’ve _planned_ for this, Connor. The police can’t outsmart us...and neither can you.”

The man pressed a button and Connor felt his memories begin to slip out of his metaphorical grasp.

 

Taking a deep breath, Gavin sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Tina?” He called softly.

Padding into the living room, he saw Tina lying curled up in the couch, papers spread out before her on his coffee table. Sighing softly, Gavin opened his computer, then sat up straighter.

“Tina? Tina! Look at this!”

The young woman started awake and ran over to look over Gavin’s shoulder. Her eyes widened. “Is that...”

“It is.” Gavin moved to click on the link, but Tina stopped him.

“It’s probably bugged, Gav. We should take it to Fowler.”

Gavin sighed. “You’re right. Get ready. We’ll take it there as soon as one of us is awake enough to drive.”

 

Hank leaned down and put his head on his desk. He’d only just arrived, but he felt like everything hurt. He was so worried about Connor that he couldn’t do anything productive.

His head jerked up when he heard Gavin’s voice.

“What’s happening?” He demanded of the younger man, who winced.

He and Chen shared a look before Gavin spoke. “You should probably come with us. We’re going to see Fowler.”

Hank huffed, but fell into step behind them as they entered the captain’s office.

“What do you have – why is he here?”

“Because he needs to know about it.” Gavin said, setting his laptop on Fowler’s desk.

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Just wait.” Gavin tapped in his password and turned the screen to face Fowler. “We got emailed this just over an hour ago.”

“Emailed what?”

Tina turned to Hank and explained gently. “There’s an RK800 model up for sale on the site you guys found. We’re pretty sure it’s him.”

“Then what the hell are we here for? We should buy him.”

“Sorry, Hank, but we can’t do that. They’ve probably installed software to listen in...it’s too risky.”

“I don’t care!” Hank spat at her. “I’m getting him back, whether you pay for him or not.” Hank stormed out of the room, leaving the three in there to jack themselves off or whatever it was they were going to do. He left the station, going back home.

“Yeah, fuck them. Fuck all of them.” He growled as he sat down at the desk Connor had set up for them to use when they were working from home. When he pressed the button to buy Connor, though, it rejected his payment. He growled in frustration.

A knock came at his door. Hank yanked it open, but was surprised to find Gavin there. “Hank, just listen.”

“Like fuck I’m going to listen to you. You don’t even like Connor. These past few days have probably been the best for you, haven’t they? And now you’ve gotta freeze my accounts?”

“Hank, that’s not true - “

“Like hell.”

“Would you just listen?” Gavin pushed Hank aside and barged into his house, closing the door bahing himself. “I had to freeze your accounts. Fowler would never forgive me if I allowed you to just go ahead and buy him. We _are_ going to get him back, Hank, but not like this. Just wait another day or two, and we’ll get him. We’ll get them _all_ back.”

“Why the hell should I trust you?”

“Because I’m your only chance of getting him back.”

Hank really wanted to punch him, but he held himself back. “Alright, fine.” He grumbled. “But if you don’t...”

“Yeah, I know. You’ll strangle me or something like that. I get it.”

Gavin left, and Hank sank down on the couch. He hadn’t said it, but Hank knew that he was on ‘house arrest’. Off the record, of course, but any movements he made would be closely watched. They didn’t want him blowing the mission. And they were right. His emotions were clouding his judgement. Sumo came over and rested his head on Hank’s knee, and he stroked the dog’s fur absently.

“We’ll get him back, Sumo. We will. I know it.”

 

Connor blinked back into consciousness. He looked down at his hands, one of which was pierced through with some sort of tag. Turning his palm over, he saw it was a price tag. Eleven thousand dollars. Confused, Connor turned his attention to his surroundings. There were a few other androids here, but they all appeared to be in stasis, waiting to be woken.

Blinking in the dim light, his visual processors adjusted, and he could see that he was in some kind of shipping container. He had no recollection of coming here, or what he had been doing before hand. Vaguely, he remembered another life – a life he’d had before this dimness. One with a friend and colleagues.

“It’s been four hours.” A smooth voice said, disturbing the stillness of the room. Connor felt a shiver of recognition, though he couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before. “Why haven’t we had anything? Even if they don’t want him, someone else will. He’s a state-of-the-art model.”

“Well, there have been other models with upgrades. And now they’re in charge of their own reproduction, they’re cheaper labour. People don’t buy them anymore.”

“Evidently they _do_ , idiot, because our business is booming.”

The voices faded as the door closed, shutting out all the light. Connor frowned, wondering what they had been talking about. He shrugged. It probably wasn’t that important.

 

Pounding feet sounded in the warehouse. Gavin drew his gun, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it. This was their best guess of where Connor was. He hoped that they were right.

Movement came from his left, and Gavin popped up, knocking the guy out. Luckily, there wasn’t anyone else there. His unit moved silently through the warehouse, clearing the place out. Finally, when they were sure everyone was knocked out, they started opening the crates.

 

Light flooded into the container, and Connor came back to awareness. There were police officers in front of him. Some of them seemed to recognise him, and came closer.

“Connor?” A short, dark-haired man said.

“Yes?” Connor thought he should remember him, but couldn’t for some reason.

“Thank god. Now Hank won’t kill me.”

Connor frowned. It all sounded so familiar, but it was just out of his reach. He followed the officer outside and got into the car that stood waiting for him. The dark-haired man drove him to the station, where he was led into the building. He was immediately ambushed by a tall, older man with greying hair and a beard.

“Oh, Connor, I’m so glad you’re okay. What happened? _Are_ you okay?”

“Let him breathe, Hank.” The officer said, pushing him back. “His memory’s been wiped. He doesn’t know anything.”

“But...Gavin, if you don’t - “

“I get it, okay? We’ll get the real Connor back. You don’t have to threaten me.”

Connor’s frown deepened as he was led to the interrogation room. A memory flashed in his mind of sitting in the chair facing away from the door, so that’s where he sat.

_Twenty eight stab wounds._

Connor’s lip twitched, but he forced it back down into a neutral expression.

“Do you remember this place, Connor?” Gavin asked, genuinely curious.

“Yes. I sat here once. There...there was someone else with me. I was asking them questions, but they didn’t say anything.”

“That wasn’t too long ago. A few months.” Gavin sat in the other chair. “Do you remember anything else?”

Connor blinked, unsure of what this man wanted. “Not much. Vague shapes. Do you know anything?”

“You were activated four months ago, told to complete a task. Do you remember what that task was?”

Without knowing why, Connor replied; “To hunt deviants.” He frowned in confusion at his own words.

“Huh. Guess it’s so deep in you programming even a memory wipe doesn’t work.”

The door to the interrogation room opened, and the older man from before strolled in, taking Connor by the shoulders.

“You failed that mission, Connor. You let your humanity take over. You saved me, more than once.”

Connor blinked. Yes, there was something familiar about this man.

_Ugh, Connor, you’re so disgusting! I think I’m gonna puke again._

_Okay, just don’t...put any more evidence in your mouth, you got it?_

_Ugh, Jesus, what the hell are you doing?_

“I’m analysing the blood. I can check samples in real time. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.” Connor heard himself saying. Gavin stopped in the process of ushering Hank – none too gently – out the door.

“What was that?”

Connor repeated himself, yet again confused. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Hank reached for his gun and pointed it at Connor, earning a startled noise from Gavin. “How do I know you’re not a deviant?”

“I self-test regularly.” Connor answered, as if acting something from a play. “I know what I am, and what I am not.”

“It’s you.” Hank breathed, lowering the gun. “It’s really you.”

Connor still wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but he nodded slowly. “Yes, Hank, it’s me.”

“I’m taking him home.” Hank announced, pushing Gavin’s hands off him and pulling Connor to his feet.

“We still have to - “

“Do I look like I give a shit, Gavin?” Hank demanded while leading Connor from the room.

 

The man leaned forward, trying to get a look at everything, but they were passing by too quickly. He cursed softly and thought about what he might do to make them slow down. Nothing came to mind. He would have to get what he needed quickly. The memory wipe wouldn’t last forever, especially if the lieutenant took the android home. There were simply too many memories for the android there. Just walking through the door could be enough to trigger the flood.

He realised there was nothing he could do except hope that they’d be able to catch something in the playback, or that Connor forgot about the additions to his systems...or that he was too embarrassed about them. A slim chance, even taking in all three possibilities.

Cursing again, the man turned his eyes back to the screen, hoping for a miracle.

 

The sound of Sumo barking greeted Hank and Connor as they stepped up to the door.

“...Sumo?” Connor said quietly, remembering jumping through the window to save Hank, even though it had turned out he hadn’t needed saving. He remembered dragging Hank to the bathroom and giving him a quick shower. Connor reeled as he remembered saving Hank from falling off a roof, Hank pointing a gun at him, asking him if he was deviant, Hank punching an FBI agent in the face to buy him some time, pushing Hank out of the way as a deviant android loosed fire on a whole squad of cops, Hank being pushed through rows of androids by a doppelganger of himself.

“Hank...” Connor whispered, grasping onto Hank as though he was drowning.

“Connor? You alright?”

“I...I remember you. I remember everything.” Connor opened the door and sat down on the couch heavily, letting the memories flood over him. Slowly, he drew his knees up to his chest, but stopped as he felt something foreign between his legs. Without a second thought, he pulled his trousers down and looked at the penis that he knew hadn’t been there before.

“Oh, Christ, Connor! What’re you doing?”

“I...this wasn’t here before.”

“What do you mean? Of course it was.”

“No, Hank.” Connor was having troubles; his core processors were overloading as his mental state deteriorated into stress. He compensated by breathing heavily, but it wasn’t enough. “I wasn’t designed to feel any sort of pleasure. I was never given...”

His visual processors shorted out, followed by his fine motor functions. Hank ran forward to grab him, stop him from falling too hard. He eased him back down onto the couch.

“nnor? What happened? You okay?”

Connor blinked as his visual and audio processors came back online. “Something happened. Something bad.” Connor was dimly aware that this wasn’t his usual programming. He was also aware that in his programming was a fail-safe. A child’s mentality that could be used to suppress traumatic events. He rocked backwards and forwards, his shoulders hunched.

Hank looked absolutely terrified. “Connor?”

Connor pushed himself up on his elbows, gasping for air, even though he didn't need it. "Hank." He reached out, and Hank immediately took his hand.

"I'm here. It's okay." His heart was pounding in his chest, echoing in his ears. "Do you need anything?"

Connor shook his head, simply grasping Hank's hand tighter, his other hand bunching in Hank's shirt. "It hurts..." He whimpered into the couch pillows.

"It's okay, Con. I've got you." Hank was completely lost, holding on to Connor as if his life depended on it. There was no way he was ever letting go. Not when Connor so obviously needed him.

A memory of the dark room he'd been in flashed, and he thrashed about like a beached fish, whimpering as he felt straps tightening around his wrists and legs, holding him to the table as soft fingers probed at his insides.

"No! No, please...please don't..." Tears streaked down his cheeks, and Hank could do nothing but watch in horror as Connor simultaneously tried to pull him closer and push him away. "Please..." His voice stuttered in his throat. In his mind, Jerry's lips were again closing over his new attachment. "Stop...please..."

"Connor..." Hank murmured against his shoulder, holding the young man close.

The sound of Hank's voice snapped him back to reality, and Connor let out a broken sob, throwing his arms around Hank's neck. "Never let me go again..." Connor whispered, utterly broken.

"I promise." Hank answered honestly. "Come on, let's get you in a shower."

"I...I don't need to shower, Hank."

Hank shook his head. "Doesn't matter, Con. Trust me; water makes everything feel better."

Hanging his head, Connor agreed, his trousers already off. He allowed Hank to carry him into the bathroom, but undressed himself. He was surprised when Hank didn't leave, but he was also grateful. He really didn't want to be left alone.

"Alright. Do you want to soak for a while?"

Connor shrugged, so Hank decided that it would be better for him if he did. He ran a bath and then helped Connor into it. "Stay there for a sec, okay? I'm just going to get something." Hank ducked out for exactly one minute and eighteen seconds before he popped his head back around the corner. "Alright. Are you ready...for some stories?" Hank pulled a hardcover book from underneath his shirt.

"...okay?" Connor wasn't sure where Hank was going with this, but he seemed excited, so Connor was more than willing to give it a go.

Hank sat down next to the bathtub and opened the book to the first page. " _Although his father had imagined for him a brilliant future in the army, Herve Joncour ended up earning his living in an unusual profession that, with singular irony, had a feature so sweet as to betray a vaguely_ feminine _intonation._ "

The book was thin, written in 1996 in Italian, and translated into English by Guido Waldman. Originally written by Alessandro Baricco. Original title _Seta_. Connor browsed the internet for information on the book as he listened to Hank read. He felt he understood why Hank had wanted to do this; he was becoming more and more relaxed as the pages turned, Hank's deep voice soothing in tone. It was evident he liked the book; he was careful not to let it get wet, and turned each page carefully, so as not to rip it. Granted, it was an old book, but the way Hank read it...yes, he loved this book.

The tone of the book was also calming, not in a rush to tell it's story, but quietly unrepentant of the betrayal that hid in its depths. As the story developed, Connor found himself liking the book, too. When Hank had finally finished reading the book, three hours had passed. Connor was almost surprised, but understood that such a precisely written book needed to be read in a precise way, too, and he found himself sighing at the conclusion. The book had had no climax, imperceptible passion, and was almost...dry, but the way it was written had been so perfect...yes, Connor liked the book very much.

"Thank you, Hank." Connor almost sighed, sinking a little lower into the water. "That was...pleasant."

"I'm glad you liked it." Without really asking it to, Hank's hand had begun sifting through Connor's hair. When he realized, he almost pulled back, but the content expression on Connor's face stopped him. "What did you think?"

Connor's eyes cracked open. "I think...Herve was a very selfish man."

"Really? Why?"

"He had a wife at home, and yet desired another woman. He didn't stop himself from wanting her. He let her seduce him. And he went against his father's wishes...he wasn't ever content with what he had."

Hank hummed, but didn't agree or disagree.

Connor frowned. "What do you think about it?"

Hank shrugged. "I think Herve is too eager to please. He's cowardly. He doesn't dispute against anyone's wishes. She wants him, so he allows her to have him. His father wanted him in the army, so that was where he was going until someone suggested something else. When Baldabiou said that the future was in Japan, that was where he went. He let himself be pushed around by others."

"Hmm...I didn't think of it like that..."

Hank's hand went a little lower on Connor's scalp, scratching at the back of his neck. "That's part of what I like about it. There's always another interpretation. When I first read it, I thought the same way you did, but when I went back to it, I started to see him as...sensual, driven by his own desires, but not selfish. More like...how do you describe it? 'Going with the flow', if you get me." He sighed. "But then, I decided he was just spineless."

"It's interesting. I'll read it again sometime." Connor smiled at Hank, feeling himself relax even more. "We can't stay here all night, can we?"

"No, Connor. But we can stay another hour, if you want." Hank trailed his hand down to Connor's shoulder. "Did you have anything you wanted to talk about?"

An image flashed in Connor's mind, and panic flickered in his eyes. Hank noticed it, and quickly tried to remedy it before it could get out of hand again.

"We don't have to. It's okay, Connor. We can just sit..."

"No. It's okay, Hank. I'm okay." Connor steadied his systems and closed his eyes, resting his head against the cool porcelain of the bathtub. "They kept me somewhere dark. There was only a little sliver of light. They didn't do anything the first day, but I was completely cut off from everything." Connor's systems started to become unstable again, so Connor focused on the feeling of the water on his skin. Sitting up slightly, he turned on the faucet, letting more water run into the bath. "I was brought into a room with a bright light and a table. There were...tools...and a couple of doors. They tied me to the table and left. For a while, there was nothing, but then a man came in. I...I don't remember if I ever saw his face. He had soft hands..." Connor shivered, remembering what it felt like to have those hands inside him.

"Connor..." Hank said gently, taking Connor's hand in his own.

"The first thing he did was remove my genital plate and replace it with this one. He said...he said that the things he was going to do weren't pleasant, but he wanted to give me a gift to make up for it. When it was attached-" Connor found he couldn't continue. It was frustrating having these emotions, but when Hank stroked his cheek with his thumb, it was all okay.

"It's alright, Connor. You don't have to tell me. I know it was traumatic."

"Do you...think about the day your son died?"

Hank's voice sounded choked when he replied. "All the time, Connor. Why?"

"Does it always feel like this? Like you're drowning?"

His voice softened. "Yes, Connor, it does." He pulled Connor's forehead to rest against his own. "It feels awful. Like your heart will just give up at any moment."

"He called in another android. He told me it had been a sex bot. He ordered it - ordered it, Hank. Ordered it to...to..."

Hank was surprised to hear Connor calling a fellow android 'it' again, but from what Connor was telling him, the android hadn't done particularly pleasant things to him.

Tears were once again slipping down Connor's face, mixing with the bath water. "It took me in its mouth and...I couldn't help it. It felt _good_. I hated that it felt good. And the whole time, he had his hands inside me, pulling things out and pushing them back in...adding things and taking things out. He knew what he was doing."

Hank felt his heart squeeze inside his chest. _Damn those bastards!_ He wanted to punch something so badly, his knuckles were already hurting. Someone had _raped_ Connor. That was unforgivable. But Connor wasn't done yet.

"I couldn't do anything. I was strapped to the table. And when he was done, I was just sent back to that dark room." Connor rolled his forehead against Hank's his eyes squeezed shut. The bathtub was now overflowing, but Hank didn't care. "Then, the next day, they showed me a picture of you, said if I contacted anyone when I was connected back up to the internet, they'd hurt you." Connor's hands gripped Hank's shoulders. "I was so scared, Hank. When they took me outside, connected me to the internet...I know I should have done something, but...I was so scared they'd hurt you. So I did nothing. They wiped my memory after uploading files."

A panic struck Hank, but Connor dispelled it immediately with his next words. "I've already erased them all from my system, but I still need to take out the hardware." He sighed deeply. "My systems are warning me that I need to get out. Can you help me, please?"

Hank nodded against Connor's cheek and hoisted him out of the bath, finally turning the water off.

"Oh." Connor said when he noticed what had happened. "I'm-"

"Don't apologize. It's alright." He wrapped Connor in a towel before pulling out the plug, watching the water drain. After Connor was done, Hank stripped himself of his wet clothes and led Connor into his room.

Connor looked uncomfortable when they were both dressed. "What's wrong?" Hank asked, genuinely concerned.

"I...Can I..."

"If you're gonna ask about sleeping here, I wouldn't want you anywhere else tonight."

Connor sighed and visibly relaxed. "Thank you, Hank."

Hank just nodded and slipped under the covers. When Connor had settled in next to him, Hank rolled over to look at his face. It was so nice to have him back. "Connor..."

"Yes, Hank?"

"I...I was worried about you." He said uncomfortably, shifting under the sheets. "I missed you."

A small smile graced Connor's lips. "Thank you, Hank. I know it's not easy for you to say things like that."

Hank rolled his eyes and turned over. "No need to get all sappy about it." He grumbled, but was secretly just happy that Connor was home. Connor, for his part, was happy to be back, if a little the worse for wear mentally. Feeling his eyelids grow heavy - a relatively new sensation for him - Connor let himself drift off to sleep. Everything else could be dealt with in the morning.


	2. The Next One

Connor woke early, his internal alarm set to six am. He slipped out of bed and passed into the bathroom, taking a shaky breath before sliding his chest panel open. The wires in his chest sparkled with flickering blue and red lights, warnings flashing in his vision as his Thirium pump started to accelerate as his stress levels rose. He became acutely aware of the weight between his legs, his mind betraying him as it remembered the feeling of hands and a mouth wrapped around him.

Gasping, Connor slipped down the wall, sliding the panel closed again. His vision swam as he tried to regain control of his finer motor functions, his hands and legs shaking.

After an hour of getting himself back together, he took his trousers off, throwing them away before removing the pelvic attachment, watching as Thirium slowly pulsed out of the now-exposed wiring. With no other alternative, Connor lifted himself over the lip of the bathtub and sank into it with a sigh.

Opening the panel again, he reached inside himself and went by touch, finding a few of the replaced components.

 

Across the hall, Hank had just started to stir, rolling over. His heart lurched into his throat when he found only empty space where Connor should have been.

"No, no, not now. I only just got you back." Hank tripped over himself, trying to get to his phone so he could call someone to tell them Connor was gone again. He was just about to punch in the number when he heard a soft grunt come from the bathroom. Hope and fear mingled in his chest as he grabbed his gun, then cautiously moved around the corner.

His breath left him in a rush when he saw Connor in the bathtub.

"Jesus, Connor." Hank scolded, sagging against the doorframe as the adrenaline left his body. "I thought you were gone again."

Connor turned his head slightly, a jerky movement, an Hank's heart stuttered again. He came closer and gasped when he saw just how wrecked Connor looked. There were tear tracks down his face, and spatters of Thirium on the bathtub and floor.

"Connor? What's wrong?"

He caught sight of the pelvic attachment and looked frantically at the place between Connor's legs, almost having a heart attack for the third time when he saw the exposed wires. His eyes travelled up Connor's body to his open chest cavity, lights flickering behind the exposed wires. Still Connor hadn't said anything or moved, and when Hank looked closer, he could see why. In Connor's hand was a wire and, without really knowing what he was doing, he took it and plugged it into random sockets before Connor finally lurched back to life.

The tears started falling down Connor's face again, curling into a ball and resting his head on Hank's chest. His intakes of breath were tagged, his body racked by the sobs as he clung on for dear life. Not knowing what else to do, Hank held him back, gently rocking him awkwardly.

Tilting his head back, Connor looked into Hank's face. "Da-daddy?" He choked out on a sob. "Why...why did the bad men hurt me?"

Hank shook his head, wondering what the hell was going on. "I don't know, Connor. I don't know." He kept gently rocking the android, growing more concerned as the puddle of Thirium kept getting bigger.

"One of them had a scar on his face." Connor noted in a detached tone. "Do you think he got it from another android like me?"

"I...I really don't know, Con. Do you think you can draw him? Maybe we can catch him so he doesn't hurt anyone else."

"I think so..." Connor murmured, but didn't pull away from Hank. If anything, he snuggled even closer.

"Connor...would you be alright if I called for Markus or Josh to come down and take a look at you?"

Something hardened in Connor's eyes, and he shrank back from Hank, making him backpedal quickly. "Or not. It's just that they know a lot more about this stuff than I do, and you're leaking Thirium."

Warily, Connor nodded, snuggling back into the warmth of Hank's body. He decided that, until Connor was feeling himself again, that he wouldn't let him out of his sight, so he called Josh from right next to him.

"Lieutenant Anderson. Why are you calling?" Josh sounded surprised.

"There's something wrong with Connor. He was taken not too long ago, and they did some weird shit to him. He's...acting like a four year old, just clinging to me. And he's got wires and things that shouldn't be here. Connor told me that you're the best with this stuff. Can you come and help?"

"Sure, send me the address. I'm coming."

 

Just ten minutes later, Josh knocked on the door, a concerned expression on his face. When Hank opened the door, he pushed past him and started searching for Connor.

"He's in the bathroom." Hank said impatiently, following the android.

When Josh saw him, he gasped. "What the hell happened?" He demanded, looking about ready to assault the older man.

"I told you, he was taken."

"How could you let that happen?" Josh snapped. "They could have done-"

"You don't need to tell me what they could have done! I imagined every possible scenario while he was gone!" Hank lowered his voice. "Look, can you just help him, please? He said they put things in him, but I don't know what's part of his original wiring and what isn't."

Josh glared at him a moment more before turning away and approaching Connor, who shrank back, wide-eyed. Immediately, Hank felt something clutch inside him, and he ripped the android out of the room.

"Hey! What are you...!"

Hank barely heard him. He scooped Connor into his arms, murmuring into his hair. "It's alright. I'm here, it's okay."

Connor clutched at Hank, his fingers knotting into fists in his shirt. Something struck Josh as wrong. The trauma had passed; he shouldn't be exhibiting this programming now, no matter how traumatic. If he was functioning properly, he would have uploaded the data somewhere and deleted the rest of it from his system, allowing the trauma to pass. True, it could be the deviancy affecting that part of his programming, as it tended to malfunction over smaller traumas in other deviants, but Josh hadn't seen a reaction even close to this.

Slowly, he backed away from the bathroom, calling the DPD and Markus simultaneously.

"Hello, Detroit Police. How may I help you?" A voice chirped at him from one end of the line.

The other end of the line picked up Markus' voice. "Josh? What's wrong?"

"I'm at 115 Michigan drive, Lieutenant Anderson's residence, and I need some assistance with a malfunctioning android."

"Connor?" Markus asked, sounding worried. "What's wrong with him?"

"What seems to be the problem?"

"He's displaying signs of age regression caused by trauma. But that shouldn't be happening. I need assistance in removing Lieutenant Anderson so we can properly examine him without interference."

"We'll send someone as soon as we can." The dispatch officer said in a serious tone, before hanging up.

"I'll be right there, Josh. Don't go near them. He might have a virus."

"Got it." Josh replied, standing by the front door anxiously.

 

Across town, the man folded his hands in his lap, trying to keep a hold of his excitement. The behavior manipulation software he had uploaded was working perfectly. Even better than he'd hoped. The flash of panic in Connor's eyes had been a real treat, allowing him to make the other android keep its distance. The aging lieutenant was so predictable. Now, he just needed to manipulate him further, making him take the android back to the police station.

Lines of code sputtered across his screen, making the man frown. Such attempts at fighting back were expected, but it was a fragile program, hastily put together, and Connor may be able to find one of the many cracks. He was sure he could plug up any holes Connor found, but it would require his undivided attention. It worried him how efficient the android had been in taking out the major hardware he'd put in, forcing him to take control and unplug his major motor functions. He was just lucky that the officer was particularly thick. Did he really think an android would make such a stupid mistake?

Sirens filled the speakers, making the man jump. Then, he mentally scolded himself. He should never have let Connor agree to have the other android come. Of course it would have recognized that the age regression program shouldn't have lasted so long. He just hoped that his finer, more important changes went by undetected. Closing the computer down, he counted to five, sure that Connor would take no longer than that to break through.

 

Hank pulled back when Connor took a huge gasp of air, sitting upright. "Quick." He said, pulling away from Hank's arms and pushing his hands into his chest. "I might not have control for long."

Stunned, Hank could only kneel at the side of the bath, gaping at the android. "Wh..."

"I must have missed some software. He used my age regression programming to take control of my finer motor functions, making me pull out my movement and vocal cables." He smiled at Hank briefly. "Thank you for plugging those back in, by the way. They're really important."

Hank's heart stuttered, watching in shock and horror as Connor ripped something out of his chest cavity.

"Josh!" Connor called, the other android rushing into the bathroom. When he was almost to the tub, though, he stopped abruptly. "Don't worry, it's not contagious. Not the program he used, anyway. The ones I deleted last night, though..." He suppressed a shiver, and Josh walked cautiously forward.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I was trying to break through, but he stopped me at every turn. Then, suddenly, the resistance stopped long enough for me to push through it." He withdrew his hands from his chest, turning to the other android. "I need you to concentrate on doing this while I search for the remaining programs." Turning to Hank, he gave his hand a small pat of encouragement and comfort. "This might take a while, and I need to enter stasis, so I'll be unresponsive for a bit."

Hank's chest tightened. "What? No. Don't-" But it was too late. Connor's face grew slack, his eyes closing as he went into stasis. Hank's heart pounded erratically as footsteps entered the bathroom.

"Oh fuck." A voice said from behind him, and a body hit the floor.

 

When Connor came back around, he was still in the bathtub, Hank holding his hand, a concerned expression on his face. He'd managed to wipe a few more programs, but wasn't able to find any bugs in his software relating to the core issues. As his senses came back online, he became aware of a few more presences in the room. There was Josh, still with his hands moving around in Connor's wiring, gently touching everything and occasionally removing something with calm efficiency. Beyond them, there was a man passed out on the floor that looked suspiciously like Gavin, and then Markus standing in the doorway, arms folded and brow furrowed. He noticed Connor waking and stepped closer.

"Hey, how are you doing?"

"A little more in control, but I still can't find what malfunctioned. There'll be more problems in the future."

Markus frowned and leaned back on his heels. Hank seemed visibly distressed by the news, though, leaning in closer. "What do you mean? What happened?"

Connor turned to Hank and smiled softly. "It's nothing too much to worry about." Connor assured him, even though he was _very_ worried himself. "Just don't take me to the station, and if I start acting strangely, don't let me leave the house."

"That sure as hell sounds like something I should be worrying about, Connor."

Connor tried desperately to change the topic. "Has anyone had a look at Detective Reed?"

"Who the fuck cares, Connor?" Hank snapped. "Can he take control of you again?"

The room's silence was answer enough for Hank, who growled deep in his throat. "I need to find that motherfucker and kill him." He stood slowly, groaning as the stiffness really set in. He was about to step over Gavin before thinking better of it. Bending down, he picked the unconscious man up and took him to the couch before brewing himself a coffee. As it brewed, he happened to glance at the clock on the wall, and groaned again. It wasn't even past nine yet - too early to be dealing with this shit.

Pouring himself a mug, he plonked himself down into a chair and rubbed at his face. He couldn't believe he'd actually fallen for it. The guy had played him like a fiddle, making him feel the protective father as he pulled Connor close, assuring he wouldn't let anyone touch him if he looked scared. Closing his eyes, he wondered how Connor would have felt, trapped and forced to act like a blubbering child as he was held close by his older work partner. What an idiot.

 

Gavin woke to a pounding in his head. Groaning, he sat up, finding himself on the couch. His first instinct was that he was hung over, but he'd been alcohol free for three and a half weeks now - longer than ever before - and was feeling much better for it. Then, he realized he didn't recognize the room he was in. Groaning again, he pushed his face into his hands, wondering where the fuck he was. A hook-up? But no, he hadn't had sex in ages, and his ass didn't hurt.

Slowly, he remembered being called by Fowler to check out what was wrong with Connor - this was his case after all, even though Hank had stolen him away. He remembered driving to Hank's house, walking in the door and following the noise to the bathroom. His stomach heaved as he remembered the dark skinned android's hands moving around inside Connor's open chest cavity. That's right; he'd fainted. Fucking fainted. He cursed softly, rubbing at the tender spot on the back of his head.

He heard Hank snort from behind him and he whirled, ready to spit fire in his fucking face, but the only thing he saw was Hank scrolling through his phone. His shoulders relaxed, and he went to sit beside him.

Swallowing, he nudged Hank's foot with his own. "He alright?" He asked when Hank's head lifted to look at him.

"They're still in his programming, but Josh and Connor are working on it." His voice sounded steady, but his blue eyes wavered. Gavin realized just how close they'd been to losing Connor, and it honestly scared him. He slumped down in the chair, feeling utterly helpless.

"They really could have done anything to him, couldn't they? I mean, what if they'd put a self-destruct program in him? He could have..." At the look on Hank's face, he stopped talking. "I'm sorry. You've probably thought of all that, haven't you?"

"Damn fucking right I have." His voice wavered now, his eyes shining. "Three fucking days, Gavin. They had him for three fucking days. They raped him once, and I can't stop thinking about if they raped him twice, three times, maybe even constantly. They opened him up, stuck things in him, goddamn _tortured_ him, showing him pictures of me, telling him they'd kill me if he tried to get out. It made _sense_ to me that he'd be acting like that, but it turned out that they were just pulling our strings. I have no idea what, over the last twelve hours, has been him or them. Did they listen as I read him a story while he bathed it all away? Watch as he hugged Sumo when he came through the door?"

Gavin felt a panic rise in his chest. How had they...no, he should have known that so much could happen in three days. Those hours must have been absolute hell. How could he have slept while Connor was in the hands of those monsters? He hung his head, guilt nestling in his chest. "I'm sorry." He said again, not really sure what else he could do. Nothing would take those experiences back. This was the absolute worst part of the job. "I need a fucking drink." He groaned at the table, starting a little when Hank plonked a beer in front of him.

He lifted his head, surprised. "What?" He asked dumbly, eyeing the bottle. His throat begged him to drink it, his alcoholic tendencies pulling his strings again. Memories of what got him started on it made his teeth ache. He didn't want to go back to that. After a long moment, he pushed the bottle back to Hank, who took it with a puzzled frown on his face.

Gavin was spared any questions by Markus poking his head around the corner. "He's going to be alright." He announced gently, stepping into the kitchen. "We've pulled everything out that shouldn't be there, reset his systems and ordered the parts that were removed. They should arrive within the hour." He sat across from Hank, placing his hand over his. "Do you need one of us to stay with you? Josh would probably be the better choice; he knows how to install all the new bits, and he's better at recognizing when something isn't working right."

Slowly, Hank nodded. "Thanks. I'll send him back when we're done."

Markus went to stand, when his gaze shifted to Gavin, who shifted uncomfortably under those hetero-chromatic eyes. "You doing alright?" He asked finally, and Gavin was sure he'd scanned him and noticed his elevated heart rate.

"Fuck you." Gavin said simply, standing and walking out of the house, going and sitting in his car. His hands shook as he reached for the keys in his pocket. An image of Nines flashed, unbidden, in his mind, which Gavin did his best to push down. There were, of course, other androids with the police, but none he'd treated so badly as Connor and Nines. Fuck his brother for even toying with the idea of resurrecting _him_.

Finally, he shoved the keys into the ignition and jerked the car into drive. It was time to pay his fairy-tale perfect brother a little visit.

 

Gavin glared at the front door, standing mockingly open. It was no surprise to him that Elijah had a tracker in his car. He also knew that no matter how hard he looked for it, he'd never find it. Growling deep in his throat, he slammed his door closed, stalking through the thawing snow up to the house, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"Hello, Gavin." One of his Chloe's said, gesturing for him to follow her. He huffed as she closed the door, then stormed after her, barely containing his rage.

When she opened a door and Gavin caught sight of Elijah, he flew off the handle, running at him, fist raised for a punch. His older brother side-stepped him.

"I see your anger management classes are going well." The jab was a common one, something that Gavin had gotten used to pushing aside. Elijah sighed when it garnered no reaction. "Are we really going to do this again, Gavin?" He sounded tired. _Good,_ Gavin thought, clenching his teeth. He satisfied his urge for violence by punching the wall next to Elijah's head. Elijah didn't even flinch.

"Why the fuck do you torture me like this?"

"What happened? You're obviously angry about Connor again, but what has spurred another rage?"

"Don't fucking patronize me! I know you're behind it!"

Elijah's fucking perfect eyebrows rose. "I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about, Gavin."

 _Fuck him and his stupid fucking perfect face._ Always the favorite of the family, Elijah was the shining star, the apple of his parents' eyes, and Gavin was just an angry, drunken, barely successful cop. The yearly cheques in the mail just added insult to injury. The letters were even worse, though.

 _My dearest son,_ they always started, and he would always double check the address to make sure it was him they were writing to and it hadn't ended up in his letterbox by mistake. _We haven't heard from you in a while._

It was an easy out. He could pretend he was angry about yet another letter. But he owed it to Hank and Connor to find out the truth. "Connor was kidnapped. But you would have known that with the fucking creepy amount of surveillance you keep on everyone at the police department."

"Oh, that. You were all rather distraught. I trust he's alright?"

"Fuck you, Elijah. What did you put in him?"

"Me?" Elijah's eyebrows went even further up his forehead. "Oh, I see, you think _I_ took him." He snorted a laugh. "I assure you I didn't. After all, what would be the point? I can do anything I like to his program from the comfort and safety of my home, send it to him in a nicely wrapped package, and he'd open it like a Christmas present."

Gavin felt his blood boil. He'd only ever been like this around him. Growling deep in his throat, he resisted the urge to take out his gun and just shoot him. Luckily, he'd left his gun in the car. Even so, he was tempted to run out and get it, just for the satisfaction of watching his brother's body crumple. What he wouldn't give to torture that fucking smirk off his stupid fucking face.

"You should let the past go, Gavin. His death wasn't your fault."

"Oh, fuck you!" Gavin screamed, having had enough. He stormed out of the room, muttering angrily to himself. Throwing himself in the car, he opened his glove box. He had three copies of the newspaper clipping; one at home, framed, one in his glove box, and one in his wallet, so he could have him wherever he went.

_**BODY FOUND** _

_Sixteen-year-old Connor Wilcox's body was found washed up on the banks of Michigan River this morning, tangled in some reeds. The young man had been missing for three months before his body was found...autopsy shows he was killed just hours before it was found...signs of sexual assault..._

Gavin shoved the clipping back in his glove box, turning to look at his brother's house. Elijah was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Sighing, Gavin got back out of the car and walked back to his brother.

"This is where you found him, right?" Elijah asked, handing him a map of a forest, a camping area circled, where there had been about twenty shipping containers full of androids.

"How do you know that?" Gavin asked suspiciously.

"I have a tracker in your car, remember?" He handed Gavin another slip of paper. On it was a name. "That's all I know of the guys working on that site. He's just a small employee, but maybe you could use him to get to the big guys." Gavin turned to leave, but Elijah called him back. "I never intended for him to become more than one. I designed him for you."

The words sit heavily in Gavin's stomach. "You can't bring him back. Nothing can. He'll always be the little missing boy found in the river." With that, he left without a second glance.

 

The parts arrived not too long after Markus left, and Hank watched anxiously as Josh pushed them into place. When he got to the pelvic attachment, though, Connor pushed his hands away. Frowning, Josh persisted, making Connor even more distressed. Finally, Hank had to step in. "Let him do it himself, Josh."

Josh reluctantly handed it to Connor and watched as he fitted the attachment in place. It was unnerving to see Connor with just a smooth plate between his legs, but it was what he wanted. He visibly relaxed as he ran his hand over it gently.

"Can you throw out the other one?" He asked, with a bitterness in his tone. "I never want to see it again."

Hank obliged him, feeling similarly about it. When he returned, steam was coming from under the door and Josh was standing outside it, arms folded.

"He's going to be alright, Lieutenant." He assured him. "Just give him a bit of time to work through the programming. He shouldn't act like he did this morning again, though. If he does..."

"I'll call someone." Hank assured him, though he was terrified by the idea that something like this might happen again. He never wanted to see Connor like that ever again. On top of that, he felt like such a fool, being manipulated into coddling the android.

He was wrenched from his thoughts by a hand descending on his shoulder. "I should get back to Markus now. Take care of him." Hank grunted in acknowledgement and watched the android exit the house. From his tone, he could tell there was an apology underneath the words, and he smiled despite himself. He really was getting back into the swing of being social again. Briefly, and not for the first time since Connor had came into his life, he contemplated getting back into dating. He shook the idea off as he always did, laughing at himself. He was too old anyway; who'd want him?

The shower turned off, and Hank stiffened, wondering whether he should stay where he was, or go to the kitchen and busy himself doing something else. He was spared the decision by a knock at the door.

"Gavin?" He asked when he opened the door, confused by the dried tears and red eyes.

The detective shoved a sheet of paper in his hand, then stalked back to his car. Frowning at it, Hank read six words;  _people who took him: Jason Mackoy._


	3. The Third Bit

He ran the diagnostic program again, frowning as it came up all fine. Connor had run the same program thirteen different times during the night, hoping for and yet fearing a different result. He felt Hank stir next to him, and something stirred within himself.

"Mornin'" The voice was rough from sleep, raw, and it sent shivers down Connor's spine. He felt so safe when he was with Hank. He wished he could just curl up next to him all day, and felt a pang of regret for what he was about to do.

"You should get ready for work. You're already late." He didn't look at Hank; he didn't want to see the hurt in his eyes.

There was a pause, and Connor closed his eyes, already hating himself. He wanted to apologise, say good morning, make him breakfast, cuddle on the couch with him while they watched movies - but he couldn't. This needed to happen, and the sooner it did, the better it would be for both of them. He couldn't keep clinging onto Hank like this. "Right. I'll just have a shower and get out of your hair." His voice had turned harsh, and it bit into the air between them.

The bed sprang back up when Hank left it, and Connor rolled over so he was facing away from both him and the door. His heart sank when the shower turned on, and went even lower when he left without saying anything else. He reminded himself that it was better this way, but it hardly felt like it.

 

Hank sat in the car for a few moments, stunned. He hadn't expected such a harsh shove out of the house - he'd expected  _something_ , and had been prepared to stand his ground. He didn't want to leave Connor at home alone, but after that display, perhaps it was best. After all, he must have been feeling upset about the way Hank had treated him yesterday.

Guilt coiled in his stomach. He should have known something was wrong earlier. He should have guessed that Connor would never have purposely unplug such important wires. He should have  _known_ , instead of seeing what he wanted to see.

His throat tightened as he looked down into his lap. He missed his son so much. Even so, it was wrong to push that onto Connor; he wasn't his son, and never would be.

Sighing, he started the car and drove to work, hoping that the name Gavin had given him would lead them somewhere.

 

"Hey, sorry, I can't come in to work today." Gavin croaked, hoping he sounded as wrecked as he felt. "I have a migraine." It was a lie. In his defence, he had received another cheque and letter in the mail from his ever-worried mother.

"I hope you feel better soon, Detective." The android who took calls chirped down the line, hanging up before he could say anything else.

He knew the message would get to Fowler. In any case, he wasn't worried about that. What he was worried about was the contents of the letter. No matter what, he always read it. He just never replied. Ignoring the cheque for an insultingly large amount of money, he took out the thick paper.

 _Just one sheet this time, huh?_ Gavin thought sourly, scanning over his mother's swirly script.

 _To our dearest son,_ it began and, just like always, he checked the front of the envelope to make sure the address was correct and, also just like always, it was. He sighed and put it down, going back to the letter.  _It's been a while since we've heard anything from you. We miss you so much, Gavin. We just want to know what you're up to. Do you have a girlfriend? Will we ever meet the woman you marry?_

_Please, Gavin, we just want to know you're okay._

_Mom XXX_

Gavin's eyebrows rose. It was the shortest letter he'd ever gotten from them.  _Too busy for me this time, huh?_

 _Do you have a girlfriend?_ Gavin snorted. He'd never gotten the chance to tell them he wasn't straight; they'd been too concerned with Elijah's projects to pay him any mind, and he'd left just three months after he'd come to terms with it. The first letter had taken a full two years to come to his doorstep, and he'd thrown it away as soon as it had. He'd changed his name, wanting to have nothing to do with them.

 _Reed_. It was where they'd found him. In the reeds. His heart ached every time he thought about him, and it was even worse seeing what he could have looked like if he'd grown to be twenty-five. He wished he could have been there at his twenty-first birthday; could have been more than his first kiss; his first time. Clenching his fist, he crumpled the letter and threw it in the bin. He didn't need to think about that right now.

Instead, he called up some random guy on a gay dating app and had him fuck the pain away.

 

Sinking lower in his chair, Hank scowled at his screen. They had no data on the name Jason Mackoy, or the other employees who supposedly worked on the site with him. It was like they were trying to track ghosts. The guilt that had been tugging at his gut all day came back, feeling like a punch in the stomach. It was making him nauseous.

Pushing it down, he kept looking, feeling like he was failing Connor by being here, but also by not being able to find anything. He wanted to be able to take them out of the picture, make sure no one else would ever touch him like that ever again. Every second he didn't find anything was another second they could be doing something awful to him, and Hank knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he lost Connor again.

 

Connor rolled out of bed at midday, going to the fridge and scanning its contents before he remembered he didn't need to eat. He was looking for comfort, and found himself wanting. Sumo had crawled into bed with him a few hours earlier, and his weight had been a welcome companion for a while, but he just wasn't enough. Sighing, he sat down on the couch and put on a movie, hoping that the noise would be comfort enough, but the cold glow of the television screen did nothing to ease his anxiety.

Not knowing what else to do, he called Nines and asked him over.

Just half an hour later, Nines was standing at his door, asking him what was wrong. "I just need..." He didn't want to admit he was lonely, though. "I need to compare my code against yours. They planned it well; I'm a prototype, so I don't have an exact match with any other android, but your code will be similar enough that I'll be able to detect some more, well-hidden bugs."

Nines looked like he sensed there was something else, but he just nodded and came in, immediately displaying his code on the TV screen. Connor started the process of comparing it, which took barely fifteen minutes.

"Oh!" He exclaimed when he found it; there was a line of code that had been placed in his diagnostic checking program, which would cover up some anomalies in his system. He immediately deleted it, a sense of triumph overcoming him.

He ran a diagnostic check and smiled as ten new errors popped up. It took him just over fifteen minutes to get it all fixed.

"Thank you, Nines."

"In return, tell me what's wrong."

The two androids stared at each other, but Nines was clearly not backing down. Connor sighed. "I just...I was rude to Hank this morning, and I feel really bad about it. I want him to know I'm not...mad at him or anything."

"Then call him." Nines suggested. "It'll make you feel better."

Connor nodded and promised to do just that, letting his brother go with a sinking heart.

 

Hank almost jumped out of his chair when his phone rang. He was inclined to just let it ring out, but panicked when he realised it could be Connor. Fumbling with the device, he finally found the 'answer' button.

"Are you okay?" He immediately asked, not even bothering to hide the worry in his voice.

"Yes, everything's okay. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. For this morning. I shouldn't have behaved that way."

"Why did you?" Hank asked gruffly, still not sure whether he did forgive Connor or not.

"I wanted you to get back to work. I can't keep holding you here, and I won't feel safe until we catch this guy. The fact that he's still out there is...honestly terrifying." He took a deep breath that he didn't need. "How's the name coming along?"

"Nothing yet. We'll get there, Connor. I promise we'll get him."

The phone call ended without much added, but Hank was feeling a little better. At least he knew Connor wasn't angry with him about holding him in the bathtub for hours yesterday. Sighing, he went back to work, tapping at the arrow keys to scroll through the lists of files, looking for that one name...it never came.

 

The guy left not too long after coming in. He'd been a good fuck. Hard and fast; just the way Gavin liked it. He barely even felt the dull ache in his ass as he wandered around his apartment, then his complex, then the streets outside.

He was barely even aware of getting in his car and driving out of town. When he next blinked awake, he was sitting in his car, idling in front of his brother's house. He cursed until his face was red, but eventually decided to go inside. His subconscious must have brought him here for a reason, after all.

The door was, as always, standing mockingly open, a Chloe model waiting patiently in the doorway. She ushered him inside, and Gavin shivered. She looked so mush like...

Gavin swore under his breath.  _Why does he have this sick fascination with bringing back the dead?_

Already pissed off, Gavin had a hard time not attempting to punch his brother in his stupid face, but he managed it.

Elijah barely acknowledged his presence for a few minutes, looking through what looked like a morning newspaper - printed on actual paper, too. Finally, he looked up with a smirk. "I thought your little friend would have been a while longer. Are you losing your touch? How long does it take for you to come now?"

"That's a pretty petty blow, even for you, Elijah. Couldn't think of anything better in all that time?" Gavin folded his arms across his chest. "Why haven't you told them? In their most recent letter, they displayed that they still think I'm straight. I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to tell them something like that."

His brother shrugged, and Gavin found it utterly infuriating. "It's not my news to tell. Besides, it would be such a shame if they were to take it badly. You may not believe it, but I don't hate you, Gavin. I just enjoy watching you squirm. Besides, they might send you away somewhere, and  _that_ wouldn't be fun."

"They can't do anything. I'm an adult."

Again, Elijah shrugged nonchalantly. "You'd be surprised what money can do, when you have enough."

Gavin clenched his jaw, tightening his fists. The urge to punch something was clouding his vision, and he felt his eye twitch.

Elijah's smirk widened. "But I am glad you've come. I wanted to ask you something." He stood and went over to a cabinet, where he pulled down a bottle of Scotch. "You want some?"

"If that's your question, I'm going to go ahead and leave." Gavin spat, turning to do it, when Elijah called him back.

"Gavin, I wanted to ask...have you ever thought about getting closer to Connor?"

"No. Why would I? We don't like each other."

Elijah raised an immaculate eyebrow. "You and I both know  _that's_ not true. But, putting that aside...I designed him for you, made him to be exactly as he was. CyberLife had other intentions, but his base code is still there. If you went looking for it...who knows what you would find?" When that got no response, Elijah's eyes narrowed. "I made him as a gift. There was nothing I overlooked."

"He's not some damn  _thing_ to be given away. He's a human being."

His brother looked surprised. "I was expecting-"

"Fuck you." Gavin growled, knowing it was exactly what Elijah wanted, but unable to stop himself. His nails were digging into his palms so hard, they were bleeding.

"Ah," Elijah said with a smile, "there it is."

Having had enough, Gavin stormed out, pushing past the Chloe that had let him in. He sat in his car for a few moments before jerking the car into start and driving away.

 

The door had barely left his fingers when Connor came bounding up and wrapped him in a fierce hug.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, pulling away, looking down at the ground as if ashamed.

"For what?"

"I...I don't know. I just..." His gaze lifted, and he abandoned that line of conversation. "I remembered something. From when they took me. There was that man, remember? The man with a scar on his face. I remember that I told you about him, and you asked if I could sketch him."

"Alright..."

"I can do better." He led Hank to the couch and pressed his hand against the TV, interfacing with it. An image showed up on the screen, and Hank drank in all the details; the scar running down the left side of his face; the sharp hook of his nose; the harsh line of his thin lips. Without pulling his hand away, Connor opened his eyes. "I...I know you just came back from there, but can you go to the station again and look through our database? Look for someone who matches?"

"Can't you ask someone else?" Hank asked, apprehensive. He didn't want to leave Connor alone again.

Connor shook his head. "Nines has gone home and isn't answering my calls, and Gavin's sick. Everyone else is busy. Please, Hank, you're the only one who can."

Hank searched Connor's gaze, and saw that he was telling the truth. "Alright, but I want you to call someone, as them to keep you company."

The android bit his lip, in a gesture so human it almost threw Hank off completely. "I already called around. The only person available would be Gavin."

"Can this wait until morning, then?"

"Please, Hank. I can't think about anything else until he's either behind bars or buried. I can't stand the thought of him coming back. He...he knows what's inside me, now. In my coding, in my hardware. It's...it makes me feel...vulnerable, and I don't like it." His LED was staying a constant, worrying yellow, and it was that that eventually made Hank cave.

"Alright. But I'm not going if Gavin can't or won't come. I'm not leaving you alone."

 

He'd just put the key in his lock when the call came. He cursed, but agreed, and was outside the lieutenant's house just minutes later. his car already gone from the driveway. Trying not to slam the door, he stalked inside and found Connor sitting on the couch, his fingers buried in a ball of fur that turned out to be a dog, that turned to sniff at him half-heartedly when he sat down.

"So, why am I here?" He asked gruffly, looking around the messy little house.

"I remembered something, and Hank's looking into it. He didn't want me here alone."

Gavin pointed at the huge St. Bernard. "That doesn't count as company?"

Connor smiled and shrugged. "I think he wanted someone who could use a gun, so they could shoot anyone who might try to come and take me. In any case, I'm glad you're here, Gavin. We've hardly had any time to get to kn-"

The human groaned. "Don't make me regret coming here, Connor. I just need some sleep."

Nodding, Connor stood, jostling the dog, and went to get something. "Here are some spare pillows and blankets. It's going to be a cold night."

Licking his lips, Gavin contemplated refusing, but...he was already feeling the chill settling on the air, and Connor had already gone to all the trouble of getting the bedding for him, so he just nodded his thanks as he set it up on the floor.

"Thanks." He grunted and went to lie down, but Connor stopped him.

"You should eat something." He disappeared again, and Gavin heard him rummaging around in the kitchen.

 _"I made him as a gift...ever thought about getting closer to Connor...I designed him for you...base code still there...gift...closer...nothing I overlooked...closer...closer... closer..."_ His brother's words swirled around in his head, not leaving him alone. He would have given anything to have his Connor back, to hold him again, like they'd done when they were in school...but nothing could bring the dead back - not even recreating them in android form.

A Chinese container of steamed rice and pan-fried chicken with a homemade lemon sauce was pushed under his nose. It smelled absolutely amazing, and Gavin couldn't refuse it. He accepted it sheepishly, digging in and feeling a stab of guilt that Connor couldn't join him.

"Have you ever tasted what you make, Connor?" He asked curiously, glancing over at the android.

"No. That would be impossible. I can't taste. It would be a waste of food."

"So...you can't taste anything? Anything at all?"

"That is what I just said."

Gavin narrowed his eyes at Connor, then held out a forkful of chicken and rice.

"Gavin-"

"Just try it." Gavin insisted, watching as Connor took the food into his mouth...and just let it sit there. "Well, actually  _chew_ it." He said with a sigh. Connor did as he was told, his expression not changing. "So...what do you feel about it?"

"I told you, I can't taste anything."

Gavin sighed. "What about the texture? The temperature? The data you just got from it?" He insisted. He wasn't sure why he wasn't just letting this go, but he enjoyed seeing Connor trying something new. It sent a small thrill through him to know that no one else had seen him eat anything.

"It was...warm. It had lots of sugar and soduim particles, which tells me it should have an almost sour taste. It had...a soft texture, but not soft like fur..." His eyes flicked over to where the dog lay curled. "It was soft like...like...I don't know..."

A smile spread across Gavin's face. "Did you like it?"

"I...I don't know. It was...interesting...thank you, Gavin."

Gavin finished off his meal and tried to forget all about what Elijah had said. When he'd finished, he could barely keep his eyes open. "Will you be alright if I sleep now?" He asked, stifling a yawn.

"Of course." Connor replied, turning the TV off and sitting back on the couch. "Good night."

"Yeah...night." Gavin replied as he took his jacket off and lay down on the bedding Connor had laid out for him, feeling somewhat strange. He realised what it was not too long after; Connor was watching him. "What?" He asked, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"It...looks comfy down there..."

He sighed and rolled over, looking up at Connor, who was perched uneasily on the edge of the couch. "Do you want to join me?" He asked finally, not surprised when Connor eagerly accepted and snuggled into the blankets in front of him. "You're so weird." Gavin grunted, rolling over again. He stiffened when he felt Connor's arm rest over his waist.

"Sorry..." Connor whispered. "It just feels...like the right thing to do." A slight pause. "It feels good." He added, as if that was going to change how Gavin felt about it. As it was, it felt...well, actually kind of good, just like Connor said. He shrugged away the stiffness and let himself sink into it. It felt nice to just be held by someone. He found himself regretting not asking his hookup from earlier in the day to stay, but he knew that he would never have agreed to cuddling; that wasn't what he'd been there for.

Closing his eyes, he willed himself not to think about the person he'd lost - the person who shared faces with the man holding him now. It was a hard thing to do.

 

Fumbling with his keys, Hank entered his house, half-expecting to see it in ruins. Instead, he was met with the astonishing sight of the two curled up on the floor, Connor's arm lying heavily over Reed's waist, hand pressing gently at his breast, pulling him in closer. Reed, for his part, seemed serene, perfectly content to be spending the night with the android he supposedly hated wrapped around him like a fucking python.

Too tired to deal with it, Hank just shook his head with a smile and made his way into the bedroom. His bed was made - obviously Connor's doing - and his pyjamas were laid out on the sheets. He pulled them on sleepily and curled up under the covers. It was so cold out there...and it was three am. He needed sleep. As his eyes blinked their way into sleep, he thought about all the things he hadn't done...he was hungry, and he still hadn't found a match for the guy they were looking for, and he hadn't brushed his teeth...

 

Connor blinked slowly awake, becoming aware of a warmth underneath and next to him that didn't feel at all like Sumo. Looking down, he was almost startled to see Detective Reed curled into him. He'd turned over during the night, snuggling into his chest, tangling their legs together and throwing an arm over his wait to pull him closer.

Gently, Connor dislodged himself from Gavin, wondering what exactly had gotten into him the night before. He'd  _wanted_ to spend the night close to Gavin.  _Wanted_ to hold him and run his hands through his hair, kiss him, undress him,  _take_ him, right there-

He ran a diagnostics test, unsurprised when it came back with the results; everything was present and functioning properly. A check of his memory told him he'd always felt this way towards the detective; it was just more prominent now. He wondered if it was a result of something they'd put in him when he was kidnapped. Some unexpected side-effect.

Going to the bathroom, he washed his face, despite not needing to. He checked in on Hank, who was snoring away, Sumo curled at the foot of his bed. Smiling, he turned into the kitchen, opening a cupboard and thinking about what he should make for breakfast. His mind wandered back to last night, and how Gavin had insisted that he try eating food. It had been interesting, and he was tempted to try it again. He wanted to know what everything felt like in his mouth. His systems heated up as he thought about putting Gavin's fingers in his mouth, moving on to his lips, his skin and, finally, his-

He broke away from those thoughts. What was wrong with him? He didn't want that. Something stirred inside him again, more violently this time, and something  _missed_ Gavin. Missed the feel of his lips on his own, and Connor frowned - he'd never kissed anyone, and definitely not Gavin. He missed the feeling of having a dick - which was strange, because Connor had no desire whatsoever to get another one after what had happened.

Coming to the only logical conclusion, he wrote up a report and sent it - to nobody. CyberLife didn;t exist any more, and there was no one else to send a report to. Elijah  _could_ help him, but the guy gave him an uneasy feeling. Nines might be able to know what was going on, but a distinct fear of the other android being jealous stopped him. Simon was out with Markus and the others on a trip to Washington, their days full with meetings.

Grunting, he realised he would have to  _talk_ about his feelings, and that made him nervous. Who should he talk to? There were only two choices; Hank or Gavin.

Hank was like a father to him, and he would feel safe confiding in him that he had a...a crush?...on the detective, but he wasn't sure that he'd understand. He definitely wouldn't like it.

On the other hand, he barely knew Gavin, but maybe he felt the same about him? Maybe he would take the news well, and not smash his face in?

He sat down at the kitchen table, pushing his face into his hands. What was he going to do?

 

The warmth was gone from the bed. Gavin turned over and looked longingly at the space where Connor had been. The heat was steadily leaving through the hole created by his absence. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. It had been like living one of his dreams. He missed Connor so much.

Rolling back over, he tried to shut his eyes and go back to sleep, but a delicious smell wafted over him. It smelled like porridge with a mountain of sugar. He swallowed thickly, a strange taste in his mouth from having not brushed his teeth. Blearily, he made his way to the dining table, plonking himself down in one of the chairs.

"Smells good." He said by way of good morning, and Connor half-turned to him, small smile on his face.

"It'll be done soon." There was a small lull in the room, a hush that Gavin was desperate to break. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah, thanks." He swallowed again, his skin crawling with the awkwardness. "You?"

"Yes, very well, thank you." Connor stirred the pot and turned off the heat, taking out two bowls, hesitating, then pulling down another. He spooned porridge into the three bowls, only putting a little into his own. "Are you hungry?"

Gavin's stomach growled in response, and Connor laughed. It was a beautiful sound. Why had he never tried to hear that sound before? It was intoxicating. It was just like his. Just like everything Connor was.

 _"There was nothing I overlooked."_ His brother's voice claimed once again.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks, Connor." He said - too late - the bowl was already in front of him. Picking up his spoon, he took a mouthful, watching as Connor dipped his own spoon in and brought it to his mouth, almost wary. His tongue flicked out and tasted it, his LED cycling yellow for a moment while he analysed it.

He smiled brightly and put the whole thing in his mouth. It didn't take him long to finish it off, and Gavin found himself entranced by the whole scene. 

Someone cleared their throat from the hallway, and Gavin's eyes flicked over, embarrassed, to find Hank standing there, watching them. "I thought you couldn't eat, Connor?" Hank asked curiously as he sat down where the third bowl was.

"I...Gavin taught me that I can, last night. I still can't taste anything, but I can analyse what's in it." He smiled at Hank, but Gavin felt his blood boil. He hadn't wanted Hank to know that. He hadn't wanted  _anyone_ to know that.

Getting up before he punched something, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the couch.

"Gavin?"

"I've gotta get to the office." He replied shortly, not looking at Connor. "Thanks for breakfast." He wasn't going to leave without saying that; he wasn't a complete animal.

He left, and wasn't surprised to see Elijah in his car. Scowling, he wondered whether he should just walk, but decided against it. He huffed in annoyance and yanked open the door.

"So, how was it, spending the night? Was it just like old times? Or was there a little more  _touching_ involved this time?"

"Mind your own damn fucking business for once, Elijah." Gavin growled, starting the engine and driving off in the direction of the precinct. He wasn't going to take his brother home, no matter how annoying he was.

Elijah frowned. "But minding yours is so much fun. So, tell me."

"We slept on the floor together. There, does that satisfy you, you pervert? You made my best friend into a fucking machine and I had a sleep over. Are all of your wet dreams coming true?" He snarled, taking a corner a little too sharply.

"I have no wet dreams about you and Connor. I just want you to be happy, Gavin."

Gavin forced out a bitter laugh. "That's a fucking sick joke, Elijah. Did you ever consider that your 'brotherly concern' is wasted on me?"

"Oh yes, I know it is. That's why I choose to toy with you instead. You react to it much better than love."

Screeching the car to a halt, Gavin pulled over, almost causing an accident. "Get out." He demanded through clenched teeth. Lightning fast, he reached over and grabbed Elijah's hand as it reached for the doornob, crushing it in his grip. "You don't know anything about love. You brought her back - out of love, you'll say - but if you really loved her, you would have left her alone."

For the first time in years, Gavin saw a real, raw emotion cross his brother's face. "And if you ever loved her, you would come and talk to her. She  _misses_ you, Gavin. Don't ask me why. And what about our parents? How long have they been trying to connect with you, and you just ignore them every time. You refuse to talk to us - your family." He hissed back, yanking his hand from Gavin's. "You push everyone away. Maybe you should ask yourself why."

Gavin blinked at the space where his brother had been. He'd never seen Elijah so angry. Did he really mean everything he'd just said? He drove the rest of the way to work, his mind all over the place.

 

Connor's LED cycled yellow again, a pained expression flitting across his face.

"Stop thinking about it, Connor." Hank said for the third time. "He's just an angry guy, and he'll only break your heart."

Connor had chosen to tell Hank about his feelings for Gavin, but had left out the part about it feeling like it was from someone else - someone who had known Gavin before. "I can't." He said simply, not trying to explain himself any more. Just as he'd expected, Hank hadn't gotten it at all. He thought the solution was easy; don't think about him and it'll go away. But Connor was having trouble thinking about anything else. Even the man who'd taken him had fallen to the wayside in the face of this.

He was distressed. He was  _hurt_. He was malfunctioning, and it worried him. He just knew he'd done something wrong, and he wanted to make it right. But making it right would mean going to the station, and he couldn't do that; not while there was still the chance of the man taking control of him and looking through important documents.

Sighing, Connor sat down and worried at his lower lip. He wished he'd done what he'd wanted to do last night.

"You're doing it again." Hank noted from where he was working at the kitchen table. Connor heard him stand and walk over to the couch. "What's so special about him? Why do you want him so badly?"

"I...I don't know. It's just always been there, like wanting him is a part of my programming. I can't help but feel like there's some sort of connection between us." Connor answered honestly. If anyone would know what to do, surely it would be Hank?

Hank closed his eyes and heaved out a sigh. "The best thing is always to talk to them. Know how they feel, and then you can see if it'll work. But...Connor, I think there's a real chance you're reading this wrong. If he says no...I just don't want you to be too devastated, alright?"

"Alright."

 

The man smiled. This hadn't been a part of the plan, but Connor having a crush was certainly a good development. His wounds were just starting to heal, but he knew what he had to do. He called a car and a few of his men, giving them directions and very clear instructions. This was going to be fun.


	4. Part Four

Elijah burst through the doors of the precinct like he owned the place, striding directly for Captain Fowler's office. No one dared stop him.

"I need someone to come and help me get my brother back." He announced, not caring that the officer was already in a meeting. "I don't have time to wait. I know where they are, and I need to have someone with me in the next five minutes, or I'll have the whole department fired."

The threat was only half-empty. He could definitely get some of the officers fired, but others would require a bit more work than a single phone call. Even so, Fowler directed him to Lieutenant Anderson's desk, and he stalked off, glaring down at the man.

"I need your assistance in getting my brother back." He growled, spinning on his heel.

"Brother?" Anderson asked, bewildered.

Elijah sighed. "Can we spare the questions for the ride over? We need to go. Now." He was impatient to retrieve Gavin from the people who had kidnapped him just half an hour earlier. Who knew what they were doing to him?

It took only seconds for Anderson and Connor to be out of their seats and accompanying him out of the building. It was just as he'd told Gavin yesterday; there was a definite perk to having a large amount of wealth and influence.

 

Groaning, Gavin tugged at the restraints on his wrists, desperately hoping that his brother wasn't behind this somehow. He blinked blearily at the darkened room, watching shadows and vague shapes moving around. One such shape moved closer, into his limited field of vision and leered at him.

"It's a pretty one. Are you sure we can't have a little fun before resetting it?"

Gavin felt a spike of fear - these people had no idea he was human. He had no idea what they might do to him when they found out the truth. Would they rape him anyway?

A smooth voice broke through his thoughts. "He's not an android, idiot. The android detective has a crush on him, so we can use him as leverage." Another face loomed into view. "You're going to be very helpful."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Gavin shot back, fighting more fiercely against his restraints. They didn't budge one bit.

The second man's smile widened. "Ah, Gavin, you can't fool me with that act. I know you're close to it."

Gavin just kept looking at him blankly. They seemed certain he knew something he didn't, and that never boded well.

"I'm expecting it'll take a little while before he figures out you're missing, and that gives us a little bit of time to get to know each other." He pulled over a chair and sat down. "Remember, there are a few people here who would jump at the chance to have their way with you, so I suggest you answer everything as truthfully and completely as you can."

 

The seats of the limosine were black leather that stuck uncomfortably to Hank's back. He fidgeted, drawing annoyed looks from Elijah.

"So, who's your brother?" Was the first question that came up.

Elijah frowned at him for a moment before answering. "Detective Reed. I thought you would have known that. Although, I did hide it pretty well. No records of Gavin Kamski anywhere in sight."

"How do you know he was taken?"

Again, an exasperated look from Elijah. "I keep a close eye on my brother and those he -" he looked over at Connor - "associates with. I also assumed you would have known that. Of course I would have a private eye on all of you at all times. I'm just looking out for him."

"How touching." Hank grunted, and Elijah scowled at him. "Where are we going?"

"There's a loading dock on the edge of the city, right near where Jericho was. He's being held there for now. But I want to get to him before they can do any permanent damage." He winced slightly. "I know how infuriating my brother can be."

"Right. Who took him?"

"I'm not sure yet, but if he's hurt, they're going to be very well known to me very shortly." His jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. "I have a theory that they're the same people who took Connor."

Connor stiffened next to Hank. "Why would they take him?"

"To get to you."

The car was silent for a few moments while that information sunk in. A cut off noise from Connor broke the silence, and Hank looked over to see Connor's shoulders shaking. "Connor?"

"It's my fault. It's my fault he's gone. My fault they -"

"Connor, no, it's not. We can't know anything for sure." Hank glared at Elijah, who glared right back. "It's alright. We'll get him back."

It didn't take long before they were pulling up outside the place Elijah had mentioned. Elijah stood back as Connor and Hank apporached the building cautiously...

 

The man trailed his hands over Gavin's torso, making him shiver and struggle against his bonds.

"Ah, you're so...beautiful, Gavin. Maybe we should have you filled up and moaning when we make the video to send to Connor. I wonder just how angry that would make it." The man stepped back, ready to beckon one of the sex bots they kept mostly to satisfy their workers over.

"I told you." Gavin protested, struggling again, more desperately this time. "Connor doesn't give a shit about me. You'll get nothing from this. You made a mistake."

The man stepped closer to Gavin again, leaning down and chuckling in his ear. "I don't make mistakes." He whispered, stroking his fingers along Gavin's jaw. Gavin tried to bite them, and he flitted away, cackling like a madman.

"But aren't I here because you fucked up?" Gavin broke in over all the noise. The laughter abruptly stopped. "You were supposed to have a spy in the police force, but Connor was too good, his memories came back too soon. You fucked up, and this is your way of fixing it." A look of understanding crossed the detective's face. "Which means you're not at the top." He redoubled his efforts, tugging at the ropes binding him to the table. "Is it Elijah? Tell me that bastard is behind this so I can finally fucking kill him."

A sharp slap to Gavin's face forced him back onto the table with a soft grunt.

The door to the room burst open and Connor and Hank rushed through, Elijah Kamski striding in after them, looking like death in a storm. The man froze, then turned and ran. It was clear that he had indeed fucked up. Somehow, Gavin Reed knew Elijah Kamski, and kidnapping him had made everything ten times worse.

 

"Gavin?" Connor's voice broke through the cacophony of pounding feet and raised voices. Hands were immediately at his wrists, undoing the ropes. "It's alright. We're here to get you out."

Then, Elijah was at his side, pushing Connor away, untying the ropes on his ankles. "Did they hurt you?" He demanded, pulling Gavin into a rough hug. "Are you okay?"

Gavin was too shocked to answer, Elijah shaking his shoulder, trying to get him to respond.

"Answer me! Gavin?"

Connor shooed him away, taking Elijah's place, his demeanor much gentler than his brother's. "Gavin, it's going to be okay." He said, smoothing his hands over Gavin's shoulders. "We're going to take you back to the station for a bit. I can't go with you, but will you be alright if I pass you off to Hank?"

"No," Elijah said, pushing Connor out of the way again, "he's staying with me. He's my brother. He needs me."

"I'll be fine on my own!" Gavin yelled, cutting through their arguments. "I can take care of myself, Jesus." He swung his legs over the side of the table and stood on - thankfully - firm legs. "Fucking pricks."

Still grumbling, he walked out of the building before falling against the wall and breathing heavily. It had come so close...just a little longer, and who knows what could have happened? The implications left him gasping, his hands shaking, his stomach roiling. The fact that his brother was there didn't help, and Gavin felt a panic rising in his chest. He had to get out, had to move, had to just run and run and run-

Arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him in place, not budging as Gavin thrashed against them.

After what felt like a lifetime, Connor's voice started to filter in. "-got you. It's okay. You're safe."

Gavin started to breathe again, sagging against the android, his head rolling back to rest on his shoulder. Before he knew it, he was talking, a garbled string of words that barely made sense.

"They just came and took me, and I didn't even know...they...he...Connor, Connor...don't...they wanted...Connor...he was...wanted...you...Connor, I'm...Connor." He couldn't understand where he was - he just sagged against Connor, who so cruelly looked and sounded and  _felt_ like his Connor had, and breathed. Closing his eyes, he focused on his breaths, forcing them to slow and deepen.

Finally, he stood up on his own, his panic attack having passed, and nodded to Connor, starting to walk, not caring what direction he was going. He wasn't sure where he was going; he just knew he'd get there eventually.

 

Connor's heart squeezed as he watched Gavin walk away, but he could sense that the detective needed some time alone. Instead of wallowing in the pain, he returned to Hank, helping him look for evidence and leads. After all, this was one place where it didn't matter if they took control.

He walked around the building, gently running his fingertips over everything, getting flashbacks from some of the equipment, but nothing that would really help them. His fingers touched a folder, and he curiously picked it up and opened it.

_They might hurt me again for this, but there's something to be said for how resilient these creations are. Mr. Kamski knew what he was doing when he built these. Of course, there are some weaknesses and oversights, which may come in handy later, but for now, we need to patch those up and ship them out. We can make back the money we lost on those experiments._

Connor frowned.  _Hurt..._ That seemed like it was a really important detail, but some foreign tendril was invading his mind, convincing him there was nothing wrong. He blinked the darkness away, making his way over to Hank. Hank would know what to-

His muscles locked up, even as his mind began to race. A deep voice resonated in his mind, one he'd never heard before.

 _I tried to do this subtly, Connor, but you refused to listen, so we're going to do this the hard way. You're going to do something for me before you regain control._ Connor's limbs relaxed a little, allowing for a jerky kind of movement.  _You're going to go and burn those documents, Connor._

Connor tried to fight against the invisible bonds that held him, but the man was too strong. He walked stiffly over to a metal rubbish bin and dropped the papers into it. Without his permission, his hand reached into his jacket and removed the cigarette lighter that all androids were given upon issue from Cyber Life, and clicked it on. A feeling of dispair settled into him as he dropped the lighter into the bin along with the papers, watching as the burnt, the heat curling the paper and turning it black.

"What're you doing?" Hank asked from beside him, and his voice answered, but it wasn't  _him_ , and he was screaming at Hank from behind a wall to notice that something was wrong, that it wasn't him, that he needed  _help_. "Well, if you say so. But, maybe you should wait outside? Just in case they take you over to destroy some evidence or something." He looked apologetic, showing Connor that je hadn't wanted to ask. His coworkers had.

He just nodded and left, control of his limbs being returned to him.

 

The man whimpered as another blow landed, trying his best to stay on his knees.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know they were related!" He pleaded, his face still stinging from his last failure. "There was nothing in any of the systems-"

"Elijah Kamski has power everywhere, even in the databases. He erased his brother. You shouldn't have acted without permission." The man had never seen his face, just heard his deep voice or the faces of his minions as they struck him or helped him in his tasks.

"I'm sorry." He said again, another blow distorting his voice, making it waver through the pain. "It won't happen again."

"I'm starting to think there won't  _be_ an 'again'." Boomed the voice. The man didn't know how he was able to hear the man's voice; there were no speakers in the room that he could see, but it seemed to be emanating from everywhere all at once, echoing around the dull concrete walls that boxed him in.

"No! Please, I can do better! I won't fail you."

The man who had been punishing him stepped in closer, a knife in his hand. "You've proved that you're disobedient and overly ambitious. You have served your purpose. I have no further use for you."

"I won't talk. Please, if you let me go, I'll keep my mouth shut. They won't find anything out from me."

"Killing you is the best way to be certain of this. Your family will also be taken care of. I have no arguments if you wish to meet with them before you die."

He closed his eyes, knowing there was no point in trying anything else. All he could do now was hold his wife and sons and wait for the end. "Please." He whispered, lowering his head.

A door opened, and two bodies crashed into him, tackling him to the ground. "Daddy!" His youngest squealed, pushing his face into the man's neck. He wrapped his arms around them, his eyes travelling over to his wife's anguished face. She came closer, falling to her knees.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, lowering his eyes.

"It's okay." She whispered back, holding his hand. "At least we die together."

And then, there was nothing.

 

The car door opening startled Connor from his thoughts, the vehicle dipping under Hank's weight. He glanced over at Hank for a second before launching himself at the man, throwing his arms around his neck.

"Whoa! Connor? What's wrong?"

"I'm so sorry, Hank." Connor sobbed.

"What for?" Hank asked, trying and failing to look into Connor's eyes.

"You asked me what I was doing...they'd taken control of me again...made me burn some papers...I'm sorry, I should have stayed away." Connor explained, feeling so ashamed that he hadn't even considered that they could do that. He'd thought he was safe.

Hank's hands finally found his shoulders and pushed him back at arms length so he could look him in the eyes. "Connor, it's not your fault. Do you remember what was in the papers?"

"Notes...I think...notes about the man's experiments."

"Do you remember anything else?" Hank asked gently, not letting Connor go, his hands comforting weights.

"I...There was a voice. One I hadn't heard before. It was...so deep, commanding. He took control of my body, spoke in my thoughts, but he wasn't another android. I'm sure of it." A shiver of fear ran up his spine as that sunk in. Someone was able to do that. This was starting to look bigger by the second, and Connor was terrified.

 

Hank was feeling rather scared himself. "Where did Gavin go?" He asked, throwing the car into drive, absolutely set on getting Connor somewhere safe.

"He didn't say; just started walking. He seemed upset."

"I'm not blaming him, but we need to get him questioned and holed up somewhere safe. I hate to say it, but the safest place for him is probably with Kamski. He is his brother, after all." He took a corner a little too sharply.

"Where are we going now, then?" Asked Connor, concerned.

Hank grunted, knowing Connor wouldn't like the answer. "You'll see."

"Hank-"

"You'll see." He insisted, driving just a little faster. The longer Connor was out in the open, the more danger he was in.

Just minutes later, Hank had pulled up outside the New Jericho - a group of three buildings with housing that accomodated to androids.

"Hank, no-"

"It's best if-"

"I'm staying with-"

"Connor, will you-"

"No! I'm stay-"

"You'll be-"

"Hank!"

"Connor!"

The stopped their screaming match, glaring at each other and panting. Connor didn't need the breath, but it definitely completed the look of rebellious teenager, especially as his cheeks flushed and he folded his arms across his chest.

"I'm staying with you, Hank." He said petulantly, finally looking away from Hank.

Hank's hand tightened on the wheel. "No, you'll be safer here. I have to go to work. I've called Simon, and he said you could stay with him for a little while, until things settle down." He held his hand up to ward off Connor's protest. "Connor, please. I know you're as worried about this as I am. I just want to make sure you're safe."

They stared each other down for another five minutes before Connor finally sighed and gave in. "Alright. Fine. What building and room?"

"Thank you." Hank sighed. "The yellow building, twelfth floor, room one thousand two hundred and sixteen."

Connor made to get out, but Hank pulled him back, giving him a big hug. "I'll be back to see how you're doing tomorrow. Hopefully something will come up in that time. And Connor, try to have some fun. I know that there's...well, I know it'll be hard, but Simon and the others will take care of you."

Hank's body relaxed when Connor gave him his trademark soft, lopsided smile. "Goodbye, Hank."

He watched, anxious, as Connor walked away, his form being swallowed up into the circle of buildings. Putting the car into drive, he went to find Gavin.

 

Gavin had lost track of how many drinks he'd knocked back, but his hands were now steady where they'd been shaking before, so he took that as a good sign and asked for another. A hand descended on his shoulder, its partner scooping up the drink before Gavin could. Grumbling, he looked up into Hank's face and groaned.

"What do you want? Haven't I been through enough already?"

Hank sat down next to him. "Sorry, but we need to ask you about what you know, then get you somewhere safe."

Gavin snorted, asking for another drink, hoping it wouldn't be stolen away this time. "What, witness protection? You really think that's necessary?" He huffed in annoyance when the drink was snatched away from his grasping fingers yet again.

"It is. I've done the same for Connor. He didn't like it either."

"Huh. Trouble in the family, Lieutenant?" Gavin lifted his hand to ask for another drink, but it was slammed back onto the table by Hank's. "Join the fuckin' party." He glared at Hank, contemplating whether it would be worth it to lift his other hand and piss the older man off. Maybe a punch in the face was what he needed. He decided to give it a shot.

Before he could even move, however, Hank grabbed the back of his jacket and started dragging him out of the bar, leaving a bunch of cash on the counter that probably wouldn't pay for all the drinks Gavin had had.

The car ride to the station was distinctly more unpleasant than he remembered it to be, but he shut up and bore it, knowing that he'd seriously fucked up. Alcohol feels nice when it's sliding down your throat, but it feels so much worse when it stops; Gavin had learnt that a long time ago, but he still couldn't seem to get the concept properly in there. He winced at every pothole or bump they drove over, but still couldn't bring himself to peel the side of his face from the cool glass of the window.

He scrubbed at his face with a hand, not feeling anywhere near drunk enough to deal with what he'd already endured, and certainly not drunk enough for what he was about to experience. He had a feeling that his brother would be waiting for him, insisting to take him home. He hoped he threw up on his shoes. Or just him in general.

With his head as filled with alcohol as it was, he didn't realise he was being led to the holding cells until he was actually  _in_ one, turning around blearily and putting his hand dazedly against the glass.

"What?" He asked stupidly, trying to get his head in the game and seriously failing. "Anderson, come on. Let me out."

"Not until you're sober, Reed. We need you lucid to answer our questions, and you most definitely are not lucid. Get some sleep, and we'll talk in the morning."

Gavin couldn't see straight, and knew that Hank was talking sense, but his drunken pride wouldn't let him sit down and take this. He banged a fist against the reinforced glass, immediately regretting it when pain blossomed in his knuckles. "Fuck! Come  _on_ , Anderson! I'm fucking fine."

"Sure you are." Hank drawled, and eyebrow raised mockingly. Gavin couldn't see it, but he just  _knew_ that was what he was doing. "Just take the time to cool off, then." With that, Hank walked away and left him to his demons.

 

Sighing, Hank straightened himself out. Now that Gavin had been dealt with, he'd have to manage Kamski - which was going to be a fucking nightmare. The man had been absolutely livid when he'd learned that they'd lost track of Gavin, and had been even more angry with the status update that he was in a bar. Telling him that they needed to keep him overnight was going to be the icing on the cake, though.

Deciding that the best way to go would be to just get it over with, Hank pushed open the door and sat down opposite arguably the most powerful man in America, and possibly the whole world.

"So?" He demanded, looking like he was restraining himself from strangling Hank right then and there.

"We need to keep him overnight. He's really drunk, and a danger to himself, and probably you too. It's just for a night, and I promise nothing's going to happen to him while he's here."

Kamski was breathing heavily, a dangerous glint in his eye, but he managed to restrain himself, thankfully, and nodded. "I'll leave him in your care, then." He stood to leave, but stopped when he was looming menacingly over Hank, placing a hand on the older man's shoulder. "I sincerely hope my brother is here tomorrow morning, Lieutenant. I am capable of making your life very unpleasant if he isn't."

With that, he left, leaving a stunned, somewhat ruffled Hank in his wake.

 

Domestic life was so  _boring_. Simon was due back from the airport in about half an hour, and the minutes were excrutiating. The former household android, of course, had a spotless apartment, so Connor had nothing to do while he waited, and he knew Hank wouldn't want him wandering around outside in case something bad happened.

But he was losing his mind, and he had to do  _something_ , so he started to walk around the complex, wondering if he should knock on some doors and get to know his neighbours. A door opened, and a female android exited her apartment with a cheerful farewell called back to someone unseen.

She frowned when she caught sight of Connor. "Hey, you alright? You look lost." She said, not approaching, but also not moving further down the corridor.

Connor smiled and gave her a small wave. "I'm just waiting for Simon to get back. I was in his apartment, but there's nothing to do."

Her face softened in sympathy. "Don't worry, we all feel like that sometimes. The nights are long, but there's a lounge downstairs." She beckoned to him, and Connor happily followed. "I'll show you where it is on my way out. It's usually busy." She smiled at him, leading the way to the stairs. "So, you must be new here. How long are you staying for?"

"I...a little while."

"Are you okay?" She asked, genuine concern tinting her tone.

Connor looked down at the ground, suddenly ashamed of what he'd been through. It was strange; he'd had no qualms about telling Hank and his brother about what had happened, but this android, whom he barely knew, was different. He didn't want her to know just how easily he'd been taken, left scarred and bruised, battered both physically and mentally by the whole ordeal. Suddenly, he didn't want to be in anyone else's company.

"Sorry, I think I'll just wait for Simon in his apartment." He turned to go back, but she put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's been hard for everyone, you know. The revolution...it caused many groups to rise up, trying to deny us our rights. We all have pain. It's nothing to be ashamed of." She smiled gently. "My name's Emily. If you want to find me again, my room's number one thousand, two hundred and twenty four."

Connor smiled back weakly. "I'm Connor. I don't know where I'll be staying." His shoulders slumped. "I just..." He shook his head. "It was nice meeting you, Emily."

"You too, Connor. Look after yourself."

"You too." Connor watched her go, an unpleasant feeling coiling in his wiring. He turned and went back to the apartment, meeting Simon at his door.

"Oh, Connor. There you are!" Simon exclaimed with a bright smile. "Did you get lost?"

"No, I went for a walk."

A frown creased Simon's brow. "Is...is that a good idea? Markus told me-"

"Can we not talk about this, please?" Connor interrupted, the unpleasant feeling growing and shifting, making him weary and irritable.

"Of course." Simon unlocked the door and led Connor inside.

Connor went through the door that led to the closet and sat down, pulling it closed behind himself, hoping that Simon would take the hint and not disturb him. Now that he was in the dark, he felt safe enough to cry.

Before, he'd thought that crying served no purpose, but as he did it now, he could feel some of the weight leaving his chest. It felt good to just let the tears shake his frame, to let himself close in on himself and break down.

A few hours later, he was finally done, and crawled out of the cupboard, looking away from Simon's worried gaze.

 _Don't ask me about it._ He pleaded silently, surprised when Simon's voice answered.

"Sorry," he said out loud. "You sent it out as a broadcast. Sometimes, it can happen unintentionally." Simon stepped closer. "Connor, I know you don't want me to ask, but if you do want to talk, I'm here, okay? You can tell me anything."

Connor couldn't look him in the eye. He couldn't explain why he felt so ashamed of what he'd been through, and how he'd reacted to it. He just was. Simon's voice soothed him through it, coercing him to sit on the couch and take some deep breaths.

"You're going to be alright, Connor. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Was I-"

"No, but I can still read you, Connor. I don't know why you feel ashamed about it, and I bet you don't either. But it could have...it has happened...to any of us, Connor. You're not alone."

Connor nodded, but stayed silent, so Simon left him alone, which Connor was very grateful for. He curled up on the couch and dind't move again until the sun was streaming into the apartment.

 

Gavin's head was pounding as he stared at the wall, waiting for Anderson to come and pull him from his misery. Finally, the glass door hissed open, and Anderson's stupid face stuck into the room, calling for him to follow him into the interrogation room. Sighing, Gavin did as he was told, moving as slowly as possible so he didn't jolt anything.

"So, what happened?" The older man asked in a low tone that Gavin was grateful for.

"I'd just left work when they took me. They just jumped me, then shoved me into a van. I was surprised, didn't get any chance to fight back. When I was in there, they gave me something that knocked me out. When I next came around, I was tied to a table. Don't know how long I was out for. There was this man, looked really bloodied and bruised. He threatened all kinds of things, but he seemed to be working under the belief that I was somehow important to Connor. He wanted to use me to get to him somehow. He wanted to know how upset he'd be if..."

He trailed off, not wanting to say it, knowing that Hank wouldn't like it. "...If they...look, can we-"

"If they raped you, right?" Anderson broke in. "Those sick fuckers seem to have a fixation on that." His fists clenched on the table.

"Yeah..." Gavin said hoarsely. "Anyway, then you guys broke in and a lot of them ran away." He felt uncomfortable, his head pounding and his insides squirming. "Can I go, please? I just want to get home and have a shower."

"Sorry, but you've gotta go home with your brother. He's waiting outside."

Gavin's insides squeezed again. He'd guessed that Elijah had told them, but had desperately hoped he hadn't. "Brother? I don't have a brother."

"I know you wish you didn't, and I don't blame you. Elijah's a motherfucker, but he's the only family we know about. Sorry, Reed, but I can't let you go home alone." Anderson pulled him up by the shoulder and led him out into the foyer, his grip keeping him from breaking free and running. Not that there was anywhere to run. Elijah had eyes everywhere; he'd find Gavin no matter where he ran.

Elijah stood upon their arrival, a worried look on his face. "Thank God you're okay, Gav." The familiarity made Gavin's skin crawl. His brother hadn't called him that in decades. "Come on, we're going home."

Gavin allowed Elijah to drag him to the car, but when he was sitting in it, he pulled Elijah in close by the front of his shirt and snarled in his face. "You can cut the act, Elijah. I know you don't give a shit about what happens to me. The others might have bought your 'worried brother' act, but I sure don't. I don't need your bullshit. I'm only agreeing to stay with you to make Anderson happy. So stay the fuck out of my way."

Something flickered in his brother's eyes, but it was gone after a split second, and then Elijah was leaning in closer, making Gavin retreat until he was pushed against the door. "Yeah, that's right, Gavin. You act all tough, but you're terrified, aren't you? They told me they found you at a bar. All that hard work gone down the drain. How long had it been? And you gave that up just because you were tied to a table for a few hours? I thought you were into that..."

Hands pushing at his chest, Gavin tried to throw his brother off, but he was a lot stronger than he had been when they were kids.

"How easy was it, going back to the bottle? Did it comfort you like you wanted it to? Or did you long for the warmth of lips around your dick?" He changed their postions, putting one knee on either side of his hips, taking Gavin's hands in his own and pinning them above his head. "I'll always win, Gavin, because I'm better than you. You know it, just as mom and dad do, just as Chloe did." He leaned in closer and snarled in his ear. "Just as Connor did."

With a roar, Gavin push his brother off him and reversed their positions, but he couldn't deny just how much that stung. His fist crashed into the side of Elijah's face, and he felt a wave of satisfaction as his knuckles broke the skin and he started bleeding. "You don't know anything about what Connor felt."

It was a weak finish to a savage argument, but it was all that Gavin could come up with, after being beaten, threatened, humiliated and bruised. He let Elijah up and sat back into his seat, crossing his arms over his chest as though putting up a protective barrier. He just wanted to be alone in a hot shower as soon as possible. Luckily for him, the chauffeur hadn't stopped driving, and Gavin wondered just how often Elijah had been beaten in the back of his limousine, but decided it was better not to ask. After all, evenryone had different ways of blowing off steam.

 

The door was unlocked when Hank tried it, so he stepped into the apartment, and was immediately pushed against the wall, lips sealing against his own. Instinctually, he knew it was Connor, he just didn't know why. The lips seemed desperate, arms snaking around and pulling him in close.

Connor broke away, but still didn't retreat entirely, keeping his arms around the older man.

"What was that for?" Hank breathed into the space between them.

"I...I wanted to know what it felt like." Admitted Connor, finally looking away.

"And?" Hank prodded.

Turning his eyes back to Hank's, Connor hesitated for just a second before pushing their lips back together, once, twice, three times, the fourth contact lingering. Then, his lips moved on to his cheek, his jaw, his neck, before he finally started crying into the crook of his neck, his shoulders shaking softly.

Hank lifted his hands and slowly stroked his back. "It's okay, Connor. You love Gavin. Save your kisses for him." It felt...strange...to know that if things were different, Connor would want him to be fucking him, to be holding him and kissing him like a lover. As it was, Hank felt more like a father to the naive android, but he couldn't deny that if Connor had wanted him to, he would have thrown those feelings away to make him happy.

He led Connor to the couch and sat him down, looking up at him from the floor. "We had the interview with Gavin. He told us about the man that you showed me, but said he had more cuts and bruises on his face. He's with his brother until we catch them. All of them. I'll let you know when that happens, and then you can come back home."

Connor nodded, sinking back into the cushions and letting his eyes fall closed. "I'm sorry." He said, his head lolling to the side. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's alright. You're just confused. Everyone goes through a phase where they're not sure who they like, what they want. You'll figure it out." Hank rested his hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezed. "I should get back to work. I promise I won't sleep until we've got them."

"Don't overwork yourself, Hank." Connor stood and wrapped his arms around Hank in a tight hug. "Be safe. I don't want to lose you."

Hank returned the hug. "I don't want to lose you either." Reluctantly, he pulled away. "I'll see you later. Have a good day."

"You too."

It took all of Hank's self-control not to turn back and stay with him. Connor sounded so sad, so worried, so...Hank didn't even want to think about what Connor was feeling. He knew it would just upset him. So instead, he hung his head and walked to his car, his resolve strengthening. He was going to catch the bastards who'd taken his happy, goofy son from him.

 

The door had been ajar, so it wasn't like he was intruding. That was what Gavin told himself as he slipped through the crack and filpped on the light. His breath caught in his throat. The room was full of framed pictures.

Most of Elijah's house was empty; a stylistic choice that set Gavin on edge. But here, every inch of space had been covered with an image from Elijah's life. Gavin even recognised some of them. There was Elijah's first girlfriend, a pretty young red head who'd been as bubbly as she was beautiful. And there was the day Gavin had caught his first fish. They'd had a competition to see who could catch the biggest, and Gavin had won, even though the fish was barely bigger than the palm of his hand.

His eyes travelled around the room. There didn't seem to be any particular order to any of the pictures; they were just hung up in a garish array of bright colours and goofy smiles. Gavin's heart squeezed in his chest when his eyes rested on a family picture. His mother, with her long dark hair and chocolate eyes, smiled beside his father, blonde hair shining in the sun. In front of them were Gavin and Elijah, holding Chloe up on their shoulders. And in the very edge of the frame, peeking up from between Gavin's legs, was Connor. Something in his throat tightened, and his eyes pricked with tears. He hadn't missed them this much in years.

Holding back the tears, he reached out and plucked the photograph from the wall, stroking his fingers over her face.

Behind him, the door opened fully. "Just going to invite yourself in?" Elijah said from behind him. He sighed and stepped into the room. "So, what do you think? Got a favourite?"

"Why?" Gavin choked out. "Why do you have these?"

Elijah frowned at him. "To remember. This..." he gestured around the room at the pictures. "This is our lives. Maybe they diverged, but you and I once lived together. I miss that. I miss you."

Gavin snorted. "Like hell you do. You hate me."

"Who are you to tell me that? You don't know what I'm feeling. Hell, I don't even know why I bothered caring. I should have known-" He cut himself off and turned to leave, but stopped on the threshold and came back. "These past few days, I've really been pissed off, you know? Running high. It's exhausting, worrying about you, because you don't give a shit." He paused, and Gavin knew it was coming, just like he always did - the blow that would send him into a blind rage - but he had no time to brace for it. "Chloe would be better at this than you."

Whirling around, Gavin faced his brother, his heart pounding in his chest. "I wish they'd taken you instead of her!" He roared, throwing the photograph across the room. It shattered next to Elijah, crashing into another frame and cracking that too. Tiny pieces of glass flew around the room, cutting into soft skin.

Rage filled Elijah's eyes. "Yeah, I wish they'd take  _you_ instead of her, too. Chloe would have never hurt mom and dad by not answering their letters for years! She wouldn't have pushed me away to the point of disowning me! She wouldn't have left me alone when I needed her to comfort me after your death, wouldn't have pushed me away when she needed comforting herself, when her best friend and crush died. She would have  _stayed_ , because she would have realised we  _needed_ each other!

Elijah picked up another picture from the wall closest to him and threw it at Gavin so it also shattered, spraying them both with flying debris. "You have no idea how much it hurt when you came over here angry!" He spoke the words like they were poison, spitting them out faster and faster to be rid of them. "How much it hurt when you lost your temper, or went back to the alcohol. I  _hated_ acting that way, but you  _asked me to_! You demanded it of me. I  _tried_ , and you pushed me away, over and over and over again.  _You_ fucking did this. It's  _your_ fault." Tears glistened in his eyes, and he paused to take a shaky breath. "Do you even care?" He whispered. "Do you even care that they're dying? They're getting  _old_ , Gavin. Failing hearts and lungs and kidneys...any day could be their last, and you're wasting time being a selfish little brat. It's never me they ask for anymore." His voice broke, but he didn't stop to compose himself, just pushed right through. "It's you. I hate having to tell them that you're still not there."

It seemed like Elijah had plenty more to say, but he shut his mouth and waited. Gavin's head was spinning. There was no way Elijah could have so many feelings; he was sure of it.

Slowly, he came floating back into his body, blinking at his brother. "Nice try," He said, sounding detatched, "but I've seen the real you. You don't give-"

Elijah's fist slammed into his face, further dazing him. He punched him again before he could recover, then again and again and agian. Finally, Gavin was lying on the ground, Elijah kneeling over him, pounding his fists into Gavin's chest. He fell forward, his anger spent, leaning his forehead against Gavin's shoulder.

"When will you get it through your thick skull?" He sobbed. "I  _love_ you."


	5. Pushing Onward: The Fifth Piece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote: I went back through the previous chapters, and oh boy are there continuity errors, so I'm sorry, but I have a plan, so let's get this show on the road. Hope you all enjoy it, and I'm so sorry about it taking so long (writer's block hit me hard on this one, kids). (I did make it extra long to make up for it. Over 9000! (words))

Hank was stunned by the scene before him; the two brothers were scowling at each other from across the room, arms folded, each being cornered by a Chloe model.

“What the fuck happened?” He demanded, his gaze flicking between the two. “I’m gone for less than three fucking hours, and I get a call from Chloe saying that you’ve had a fight.” He turned to Elijah. “You were supposed to be keeping him safe. _Protective custody!_ Does that mean anything to you?”

The older brother stayed silent, his scowl only deepening.

Sighing, Hank turned to Gavin. “And what the fuck? Do you _want_ to get murdered? Wandering off was bad, but this? Really?”

The younger of the two also stayed silent, still fuming.

“Well, whatever. It won’t happen again, because you’re coming with me.” He announced before going over and hauling Gavin to his feet, ignoring his sudden protests. “I don’t give a shit, Reed. You’re coming with me, and that’s that.”

He shoved Gavin into the car. “Don’t you fuckin’ move, Reed. I’ll be right back.” He stormed back into the house, taking Elijah roughly by the arm. “Don’t you go anywhere near him until this investigation’s finished, you hear me?”

“You got a soft spot, Lieutenant?” Elijah hissed. “Maybe you think you can adopt him like you did Connor. Well-”

“Fuck off, Kamski. Just stay away from him or I’ll lock you up, alright? I’m gonna file a restraining order against you.” He growled, then dropped him and stalked back out.

To his back, Elijah yelled, “he won’t ever be a good son! He’s a drunk and a fucking prick, and he always will be!”

“Asshole.” Hank mumbled under his breath, shoving the keys in the ignition and driving away.

 

The scowl was starting to hurt his face, but it didn’t stop Gavin from deepening it, his bottom lip pouting and his arms crushing into his chest.

Hank chuckled from the front seat, and he was immediately defensive, despite knowing that it wouldn’t help anyone. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You look so much like Connor. I dropped him off at Simon’s yesterday, but he didn’t want to go. He looked just like you do. Arms crossed, pouted lips, deep scowl. It’s practically like looking at a clone.”

Gavin’s heart squeezed, because Gavin _was_ emulating Connor. The Connor from his previous life as a carefree teenager, where he would copy everything he did, because he...fuck.

“Gavin?” Hank asked, suddenly sounding worried.

“How is he?” Gavin managed to choke out.

“Oh, uh, he’s okay, I guess. Confused. He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, last time I went to see him, he kissed me, but I could tell that wasn’t what he wanted. He’s...I think he’s just really broken up about not being able to get away, about...liking the-”

“Actually, forget I asked.” Gavin snapped, his heart squeezing yet again, even more painfully this time. He wanted to be the only person who had ever touched Connor, _would_ ever touch Connor. That he’d kissed Hank – it hurt, more than he’d ever admit. So he went back to sulking, not quite missing the look Hank shot him through the rear-view mirror.

 

Connor wished he could get out, go to see someone or something, but Simon had left to have meetings four hours ago, and had told him to stay put. Despite his deviancy, he was still inclined to obey orders; it _was_ the base of his programming, after all. It drove him insane.

He was trapped, both physically and mentally, as he remembered over and over again those agonising hours in that room, pacing, alone and scared...as he remembered soft hands opening up his chest, pushing inside him as other fingers wrapped around something he didn’t even _want_ and... and…

Taking a shaky breath, Connor sat down on the couch and ran his fingers through his hair. He wished Hank was there, to take the memory away, or Gavin was there – what for, he could figure out later – or Nines. Anybody would be better than being alone.

So alone.

Connor willed himself not to cry, but it was so _hard_. He was hurting all over, an ache that just wouldn’t go away. His mind wandered yet again, but not to his memories. Rather, what swirled around in his head were possibilities. What ifs that set his heart racing. What if Gavin had been raped or killed when he’d been taken? What if they hadn’t gotten there in time? What if...what if...what if…

He threw himself back on the couch, his chest heaving as he tried to expel the thoughts. Closing his eyes, he put a hand over his chest, turning the sensors off, so he could pretend it was someone else’s. Slowly, he worked the hand underneath his shirt, sighing at the contact.

“Gavin...” He whispered, pushing his chest out, as if begging for his fingers to find something there. It was completely instinctual – strange and new and overwhelming – as he trailed his hands down his torso. His heart jumped nervously when he brushed his fingers over the waistband of his trousers, but he was also excited. He wanted to know what it felt like.

So, his hand – Gavin’s hand – started to lift them off from his skin, the fingers snaking down inside, going further and further and further…

And further and further and further…

And further and – there was nothing. Nothing to touch, nothing to feel. It was just more skin. Skin and skin and skin and skin. Connor choked back a sob. He wished he hadn’t even tried.

The door opened, and Simon gasped. “Oh! Oh my-! I’m so sorry!”

Hastily pulling his hand out, Connor sat up and pushed his hands together between his thighs. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry, Simon. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Simon’s face softened. “It’s not very fulfilling, is it?” He sighed, coming in and closing the door. “I think we’ve all tried, at some point, and been disappointed. It almost hurts that we can’t feel pleasure as they do. But...” Simon sat down next to him, and turned to him, excitement tinting his tone. “A few of us have found something that works. It’s not the same for everyone, but I found it nice.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “Do you want me to show you?”

Connor thought about it for a second, but decided that he really did want to know, so he nodded and watched, rapt, as Simon opened the panel in his forearm.

“Okay, well, what I do is...I open myself up like this, then I reach in and gently, really gently, move my fingers around and stimulate the wires.”

“...Stimulate?”

“Yeah, like rubbing your fingers up and down them, pinching them a little. Give it a try.”

Cautiously, Connor opened up his panel. He was kind of nervous about it, even though it was just his arm, so if he damaged something, it wouldn’t be too embarrassing, but he was also curious. Slowly, he reached his hand in and found a small wire. Taking it in his fingers, he gingerly stroked it, but nothing much happened.

He turned down the sensations in his hand, so it felt kind of like someone else was guiding his hand to -

“Oh!” Connor gasped, a new and wonderful sensation ripping up his spine. Suddenly, Simon was on top of him, pushing him back onto the couch and kissing him. It felt good, but it felt...wrong.

Simon pulled back, panting a little, a blush covering his face. “I’m...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looked ready to cry. “I...I think...you should go, Connor.” His voice was shaky, and Connor wanted to say something to make it better, but he couldn’t think of anything, so he just walked out, shooting Simon one final, apologetic look.

 

The man’s voice resonated from somewhere close by, but Terry couldn’t see anything. All he had to go on were the sounds. The scraping of boots on concrete, the deep voice close, but so far away, like it was coming from a speaker, the gentle whistle of the wind, as if he were in a tunnel of some sort.

There was also the pain. The pain of having his hands tied behind his back, the pain throbbing in his head from where they’d hit him, the pain of knowing they had his daughter, the pain of panic in his chest.

And finally, there was the hatred. The pure, black hatred he held for the people who’d taken his daughter away and done this to him – to them.

“Ah, yes, he looks a fine specimen. I think he’ll do the job nicely. Now, listen closely, for we don’t have much time...”

 

Only slightly nervous, Connor knocked on Emily’s door. She opened it, and a smile spread across her face.

“Connor! Oh, come in!” She said brightly, stepping aside and letting him walk inside. Their apartment was similar to Simon’s, but they’d decorated it with a rainbow; from the lime green couches to the bright yellow windowsills, there was an abuse of colour everywhere.

Emily smiled at Connor’s wince. “Yeah, I know it’s a bit much, but we used to be sex workers...” She gave a grimace of her own. “My partner, Stacey, and I, wanted nothing to do with blue, red or purple, so we got all the _other_ colours.” She looked around at the apartment with a smile. “We’ll probably redecorate at some point, but for now...it’s home.”

“I see why you like it.” Connor said honestly.

“So, what brings you over?” Emily asked cheerily.

Connor’s face fell, and Emily’s expression softened. “Oh, that bad, huh?” She sat down on the couch and patted the space beside her. “Tell me.”

Strangely, Connor felt soothed by her actions, and so sat down on the couch, his shoulders curling in as if to protect himself. “I...where do I begin?”

“Wherever you want.”

Connor studied her face. She felt familiar, as if he’d seen her. Of course, all the Traci’s looked the same, so he should have expected that, but he felt like he _knew_ her. Like… “You were there, weren’t you? You were one of the deviants at the club.”

She smiled softly. “Yes. Stacey was the one who killed that man, but...thank you for not shooting me, Connor. We followed Markus through the revolution. And when you took your place at his side...it was the happiest day of my life.” Her hand reached out and stroked his cheek. “But you’re sad now, troubled. So tell me.”

So Connor did. He told her, from the moment he was activated, just before stepping into the elevator, to the moment Simon’s lips left his, what had happened, and he tried to convey just how sorry he was for everything.

“So...they took you? Why?”

Connor shook his head. “I don’t know. I think they just wanted to get inside eyes in the station...”

“But you think there’s something else. Something else they want?”

Again, Connor shook his head. “It’s...I don’t know for sure, but...when they said ‘one of a kind’, it felt off. I mean, I’m _not_ one of a kind. Sure, no model is exactly like me, but my brothers are close enough. You know, the RK900 models. So I’m not one of a kind anymore.” He shook his head yet again. “It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Hmm...I hope that you find the answers, Connor.” She smiled at him, and he felt like there was something else he should say, but he just felt awkward.

“I’m sorry. I should go. Thank you, Emily. For everything.”

She saw him off with yet another smile, and he took a deep breath before calling Hank.

 

Hank answered his phone after just two rings, looking panicked. “What’s going on?” A pause. “Sure thing, and don’t worry about it. We’ll talk about it later.” He hung up and looked at Gavin. “Do you want to come, or stay here?”

Shrugging, Gavin folded his arms. “I suppose anything would be better than spending time with that.” He said, jerking his thumb at Hank’s massive hound.

Hank huffed, but shrugged as well, opening the door and holding it open for Gavin to step through.

The drive to New Jericho was tense, but Gavin wasn’t about to do anything about it. He was, after all, an asshole – a reputation he’d worked hard to get – and while it was lonely, it was safer than letting anyone into his bubble, like he had when he was younger and dumber. Letting people in meant it hurt when they eventually and inevitably disappointed you.

New Jericho was a lot bigger than he’d expected it to be. There were three buildings, one painted a calming, neutral blue, another painted a lively shade of green, the last painted a light yellow. Together, they made for an odd look, but Gavin supposed that they weren’t too garish.

Connor was sitting with his back against the green building, which was closest to the street.

Hank got out of the car and ambled over, his bulk making it look more difficult that it should be. Gavin squashed down his curiosity, which begged him to go over and listen to what they were saying, convincing himself he didn’t care what had made Connor upset.

He watched as Hank sat down next to the android, watched him put an arm around his shoulders, watched their lips moving, watched Connor snuggle into the embrace, watched as they just sat there, and his heart ached, remembering the time just after Connor had come out to his parents, when he’d done the exact same thing. He even curled against Hank’s body in exactly the same way...his breath hitched in his throat, hoping he wouldn’t witness…

_Connor snuggled against his side, nuzzling his nose against Gavin’s shoulder._

“ _It wasn’t good.” He said finally, a small smile on his lips. “But at least I’ll always have you, right, Gav?”_

“ _Right.” Gavin answered, voice barely a whisper. He wished he could turn it all back, to before Connor was kicked out of his house just for being gay. He wished he could do something, anything, to make it all better._

_And then, Connor’s lips were against his, his arms pulling him in closer, his hands stroking his cheeks, his sides, Connor’s body gently, slowly, pushing them over so he was on top, Gavin’s legs parting so that Connor had a place to put his._

Gavin’s chest heaved from the memory, his eyes burning. It was only a few weeks after that that Connor had been taken, lured away by some older man, the police thought. There had been only a few kids that had been taken at that point, and the police were reluctant to put a gay youth living on the streets into the group of ‘innocent’ children snatched from their beds. So, they blamed him, reminded everyone about stranger danger – and that prostitution was illegal – and left it at that. Until he’d turned up in the river, tangled in the reeds, that was.

The car door opened, and Gavin hid his face in his shirt sleeve, unwilling to look anyone in the eye. He needed to go home.

 

Terry watched as the lieutenant drove away with Connor in his car and cursed softly. He was going to have to make a move, and soon, or they’d do unspeakable things to his daughter. Despite knowing this, he was reluctant to do what they wanted.

Taking a deep breath, he repeated everything he’d been telling himself over the past few hours – things he knew to be true.

_If I don’t, they’ll find someone else to do it. If I don’t do it, they’ll kill me, and her, without a second thought. If I don’t do it, they won’t be delayed for long. If I don’t do it, Connor will never know what I do. If I don’t do it, they’ll send someone more ruthless._

Just as the lieutenant’s car was about to disappear around the corner, he started his own and followed. There was no way around it. He was going to have to do this.

 

Connor looked over at Gavin, who had been sitting on the couch in a sour mood ever since he’d seen him, and it didn’t look like it was going to get any better.

He sighed softly. Hank had left about an hour ago, promising to make regular check-ups on them, but giving them strict instructions to be nice to each other.

The doorbell rang and, before he could really think about it, Connor was up and bounding to the door. When he opened it, however, it wasn’t Hank who was standing there. It was a tall, broad man with dark skin and a kind face.

“Hello? How can I help you?” Connor asked warily.

“Look, I know you haven’t been treated well by the people who took you before, but I’m different, alright?” Connor tried to close the door, but the man’s bulk was now inside the threshold, pushing him back into the hallway. “Please, I just need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Connor said, glad he sounded more confident than he felt.

“I understand that, but they have my daughter, so I need you to listen.”

Connor took a moment to really look at the man who was towering over him. He looked desperate, and uncomfortable, like he’d rather be anywhere else. So, despite his better judgement, Connor stepped aside and let him in.

“Thank you.” The man breathed a sigh of relief. “My name’s Terry. I know your name is Connor.” He took a deep breath. “The people who took me...who took us, they said you have something. Something that no other android has. They told me that ‘my predecessor’ failed to get it. They told me that he’d gotten something that _looked_ like what he was looking for, but wasn’t.”

Connor frowned. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Terry sighed again. “They said it was small, cylindrical, or maybe a cube, they weren’t sure. They said it had something inside it, something important.”

“But not exactly what was inside it?”

“No, sorry. But I need it. And if I don’t get it, they’ll just send someone else. They’ll keep sending people until they have it. But they said that they want to keep you active, no matter what.”

Connor frowned. “Why?”

The man shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “I don’t know. They didn’t say.”

“Well, I still don’t know what it is they want.” Connor said gently. “I’m sorry, Terry. Do you know where they are?”

“No. I was blindfolded on the way in and out, but it sounded like a brick building, if that helps.”

Gavin’s phone ringing made them both jump. He’d been so quiet, they’d forgotten he was in the house.

“Yeah? Shit, that’s close. I’ll come – no, I can be there – come on, Anderson, you know it’ll go faster with two – no, I’m coming.” There was the soft clinking of keys and then Gavin was there, at the end of the hall, his mouth dropping open at the sight of the big man.

“Who’s this?”

“My name’s Terry. I was just...”

“He’s new in the neighbourhood, I was just giving him directions.” Connor said, thinking fast. “So, you go to the left at the end of Boundary Road, and then it should be on the left.”

“Thank you. I hope to see you around.” Terry said, turning around and leaving the house. Connor was a little sad to see him go.

Gavin was watching him with narrowed eyes. Eventually, he just sniffed. “There’s been a murder” He looked down at the keys in his hand. “And my car’s back at work...shit.” He took a deep breath. “Alright. You stay here, and I’m going to go and look at this crime scene, and then I’ll be back.”

Connor was about to protest, but Gavin was already out the door and down the street, running like his life depended on it.

 

He was so glad to get out of that house. Memories of everything he and Connor had done together had been swirling around in his mind ever since he’d laid eyes on the android, and it was driving him insane. He had wanted, all day, to just grip him tight and tell him everything, but he couldn’t let that happen.

His pace slowed to a meandering jog, taking out his phone and using one of those taxi apps. As he jogged, his heart also slowed to a more appropriate pace. He thought again of Connor, who had looked so startled when he rushed out the door. His heart squeezed in his chest, but he forced it down. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling things.

Despite all of his efforts, images and memories of Connor swirled just under the surface of his consciousness, threatening to spill over and overwhelm him. He felt like he was being buffeted in a storm, and that storm was Connor.

The taxi arrived, and he slumped into it gratefully, taking the time he had alone to allow himself a few tears, but those few tears turned into full-on sobs, his body shaking painfully with every heaving breath he took.

Calmly, the taxi waited for his breakdown to be over before asking him where he wanted to go, and Gavin wondered if the fucking cars had become sentient now. He sincerely hoped not.

“Detroit police station.” Gavin gasped finally, rubbing at his eyes.

Immediately, the taxi pulled away from the curb and into the traffic, remaining silent until they’d reached their destination.

 

Reed’s car pulled up, and Hank breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t like he actually cared, but Connor was sweet on him, and if anything happened to him, Connor would probably never forgive him.

“Glad you could make it.” He said, even as he took note of Gavin’s red eyes and still-flushed face. “I hope you’re ready, though. It’s not pretty.”

“Murder never is.” He retorted, and Hank had to concede the point.

“Hmm. This one’s especially bad, though. Two kids and their parents. A few people have thrown up already. Some squatters found them, gave them quite a shock.”

Gavin sniffed, looking unphased. Hank shrugged and opened the door, his stomach already churning at the thought of those poor boys…

The four bodies were dumped in a pile in the middle of the room, the father on the bottom, the two boys stacked on top, the mother draped over the rest haphazardly. All of them had their throats slit, but also had multiple stab wounds over their bodies. No one had yet had the courage to turn them over, and Hank thought they might never find it. No one wanted to see those boys’ faces. All of them had been stripped of their clothes, which had been balled up in the corner and burnt.

Breathing shallowly, Hank led Gavin further into the room, stepping in as little blood as he could. He watched as the detective donned gloves and stepped closer to the bodies.

“Oh no.” He breathed, knowing what was coming next.

With a soft grunt of exertion, the detective lifted the woman’s shoulders and rolled her off the pile. He then manoeuvred her so she was lying like she would on the slab. It was depressingly easy to move the boys in comparison. The man was the most difficult, but thankfully all Gavin had to do was turn him over, because no one else was volunteering to help.

As soon as the man’s face was in view, Gavin gasped and dropped him, the body making a dull _thud_ as it hit the floor.

“It’s him.” He breathed.

Hank stepped up and peered at his face. It took a moment for him to recognise him, but he was indeed the man Connor had shown him.

“I _knew_ it.” He said, standing and pulling the gloves off.

Hank blinked. “Knew what?”

“He’s not the top dog. There’s more to this than we thought. There must be someone up there pulling strings.” He pulled out his phone, and Hank put a hand on his arm.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling Fowler. He’ll want to know.” Gavin growled, bristling.

Hank let go. “Sorry. I just don’t want Connor to know about this.”

Gavin stared at him for a moment before nodding. “Okay.” He stalked away, phone already to his ear.

Closing his eyes, Hank called over the photographers, and watched as they got everything they thought might be important. Hank already knew that there wouldn’t be any traces of anything left. These people were too good for that. Instead, he folded his arms and wondered what he would tell Connor when he got home.

 

“Tell me if anything else comes up.” Fowler finished, hanging up the phone.

“Will do.” Gavin grumbled, stuffing the rectangle back into his pocket. He didn’t really want to, but he turned and walked back into the room with the bodies. Hank had been right about this being a particularly bad one. No one wanted to see a ten to eleven year old boy stacked like a fucking Jenga block on top of his seven to eight year old brother. It was the kind of thing that made your blood boil, no matter how cold the heart.

He watched the photographers work, wishing he was anywhere else. Slowly, he made his way over to Hank, hoping that he’d take the authority and say they could leave.

Finally, Hank conformed to his wishes, clapping him awkwardly on the shoulder. “I don’t think we’ll be of much help anymore. Let’s get out of here.”

Gavin breathed a sigh of relief, which really should have waited until they were out of the building, because he took in a lungful of stale, festered air, making him cough.

His eyes started watering, and Hank ushered him outside so he could take deep breaths.

“There you go.” He said when Gavin had straightened, his breathing more even now. “I’ll follow you back to my place, Gavin. No detours. Even though he’s dead, you’re still in witness protection, and I won’t allow you to go back to your place until we know you’re safe.”

Gavin grumbled, but Hank wasn’t taking no for an answer, and he knew a losing battle when he saw one, so he gave up and made his way to Hank’s house, the lieutenant close behind the whole way.

“I don’t need to be babysat, you know.” He complained as he waited for Hank to open the front door.

He ran into Hank’s back when he abruptly stopped. “Wha-”

Peering around Hank, he saw Connor with his chest cavity open, hand deep inside himself, eyes rolled back, mouth open wide.

“Is he...jerking off...or something?” Gavin whispered, transfixed, his stomach flipping uncomfortably. And fuck, he felt like he was going to either be sick, pop a boner or both.

“I...I don’t know...” Hank whispered back, looking pretty pale himself. “Maybe we should just give him some privacy...”

Connor’s eyes came abruptly back into focus, shaking his head as if coming back from some weird trip. He withdrew his hand from his chest and closed it with a sigh, his brows creased.

Hank cleared his throat and the android’s head swivelled in their direction, his eyes widening in surprise. “Uh...what were you doin’, Connor?”

“Looking for something. I was reading this article that there’s this switch inside me or something. It’s supposed to allow me to feel things I haven’t previously, but I couldn’t find it.”

“It...looked like you were enjoying yourself, son. We thought...well...if you do that again, could you not do it in the living room, please?” Finally, Hank found he could move again, and slumped down on the couch next to the android.

“Sure.”

Gavin wasn’t quite ready to put himself in that situation, so he went to the kitchen and got some water, swallowing it down like a dying man. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he’d been. Gavin snorted at that thought. He certainly was thirsty, and not just for water. His eyes wandered over to Connor, even the back of his head looking pretty, with his slim neck and broad shoulders. The android reminded him so much of the Connor he’d lost…

“Gavin?”

“What?” He startled, just noticing Hank standing in front of him.

“Mind moving? Need to get something to eat.”

Immediately, Connor was up. “Let me cook you something. Both of you. You look so pale.” He pushed Hank out of the way, but thought better of doing the same to Gavin, who stepped to the side after a moment’s pause. The android rummaged around, the glow of the fluorescent light in the fridge making his artificial skin turn a strange colour.

He stood, vegetables in his hands. “So, what happened?”

Hank thought faster than Gavin, laughing nervously. “Nothing much, Con. We look so pale because we saw you with your hand in your chest. It was just your run of the mill domestic homicide, I just needed Gavin to come and have a look at some stuff down there. The guy who did it’ll be behind bars soon enough.”

Connor narrowed his eyes, knowing it was a lie, but he didn’t push it. Unexpectedly, Gavin felt relieved. He hadn’t wanted Connor to know that the guy was dead, but that he still wasn’t safe. He didn't think the android would like knowing that there was more to it than just one evil guy.

“Well, you two go and sit down. I’ll bring this to you soon.”

 

Connor had felt bad for keeping his secrets until Gavin and Hank had kept some of their own. The sting of betrayal was sharp. He could handle whatever they were hiding, couldn’t he? Or maybe they were hiding some love affair, and that was why Hank had dissuaded him – no, that was ridiculous, Connor chided himself.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got, until he was having to restrain himself from bashing the pots against the counter so hard they broke.

He was plating up when an image of Hank pulling Gavin onto his lap made his hand slip, and the plate fell onto the floor, shattering.

Hank was suddenly at his side, tugging his fingers away from the handle of the saucepan, looking them over for cuts. “Are you okay? I know some of these plates are old-”

“I’m fine.” Connor snapped, pulling his hand away from Hank’s grasp and staking away. He didn’t yet have a room here, not really, so he just went to the bathroom, willing himself to calm down.

His mind went wild with scenarios, and he was cursed with a perfect construction of every possible act.

_Hank’s hands slid up the soft curve of Gavin’s back, asking if he was okay, telling him to watch out for sharp bits on the floor._

_Gavin tilted into the touch, batting his eyelashes at the older man, telling him all sorts of sweet nothings._

_Gavin told Hank to sit down while he cleaned up the shards off the floor, kneeling down, surfacing between the lieutenant’s knees, looking hungrily at his penis._

Another loud noise reached his audio processors, and it took him a moment to realise that he’d made that noise, too. His fist was buried in the wall behind the mirror, his punch significantly stronger than any human’s would be.

Hank knocked lightly on the door. “Connor, are you okay in there?”

“I told you I’m fine.” He growled, still angry. The relatively new emotion gave him pause. He’d felt frustration before, fear, sadness, happiness, love, but anger?

With a sigh, Hank opened the door. “What’s wrong?” His voice was gentle, like he was soothing a frightened animal, and it made Connor even more angry. He wasn’t some dainty maiden to be coddled. He could take it, whatever Hank and Gavin were hiding, even if it was -

“Nothing.” Connor growled out, dragging another sigh from Hank.

He rubbed his face. “Jesus, do I really have to do this?” He groaned. “Connor, you’re acting like a bloody teenager.”

“Well, maybe I am a teenager!” He shot back, not even really thinking about it. “But I’m not an idiot, Hank! I can tell when you’re hiding things from me.”

“Of course you’re not an idiot. I just...I didn’t want you to know about the murder because...well, it was the man who took you.”

That made Connor stop dead in his tracks. “What?”

“The victim was the man who’d taken you. I needed Gavin to come and confirm it, but there’s no doubt. I didn’t want to tell you because...well, it’s still not safe. We’re dealing with an organisation-”

“I know that.” Connor snapped. “Did you forget the documents I burned? The other man’s voice in my head? Because I haven’t.”

“I’m sorry, Connor.” Hank said, sounding so sincere Connor felt bad for snapping.

“It’s fine. I just wish you hadn’t hidden it from me. I thought...” He trailed off, not knowing if he should say it, just in case it gave the lieutenant any ideas.

Hank didn’t push, just nodded and left. “Take all the time you need but...please don’t break anything else? I don’t get paid enough for you to have tantrums.” He nodded towards the hole in the wall, and Connor felt his cheeks heat up.

He sat down on the toilet seat, pushing his face into his hands. Why was he acting so strangely? It wasn’t like Gavin had shown any interest. Perhaps even the opposite. He was such an idiot, despite what he’d said to Hank.

 

The house was quiet. So quiet that Gavin startled to see Connor standing in the corner. His back hurt from sleeping on the couch, but he wasn’t about to ask the android to go and get him blankets again, and there was no way he was going to share a bed with Anderson. He shuddered even thinking about it.

Sighing, he got up off the couch and got some toast and coffee. He eyed Connor warily, deciding whether he should still be upset that he’d kissed the older man or not. After all, he was essentially a teenager, struggling to deal with new emotions and urges. He was probably as confused as Gavin had been when he was a teenager, and that was saying something, because Gavin had been a hot gay mess.

Well, maybe _hot_ was pushing it. He had been pimply, oily and unbearably annoying. He’d followed his brother around, trying to copy his every move in a desperate bid to stop being gay, fearing a reaction like the one Connor had received. He’d also wanted his parents to approve of him like they approved of his brother, especially after losing Chloe. They’d clung onto his brother as if he was a life raft and, while he recognised that that would have been fucking difficult, it meant that they completely overlooked Gavin.

He rubbed at his face, hating the ruts his mind got itself into. As always, he was thinking the same thoughts he had a hundred times before. Thoughts about Connor brought about thoughts about everything else, like his parents, his brother and sister and, inevitably, back to Gavin himself.

“Morning.” Connor said from the corner, making Gavin jump.

"Fuck! Don’t do that!” Gavin chided, his heart pounding in his chest at the fright.

“Sorry.” Connor said, sitting opposite Gavin. “Did you sleep well?”

Gavin groaned. “Spare me that domestic bullshit, Connor.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it last time.” Connor commented, and Gavin felt his cheeks heat up. _Last time_ , he’d fallen asleep with Connor’s arm draped over his waist, a warm feeling pushing at his chest at the closeness he’d craved for years.

“That was different.” He grumbled, biting into the toast. “Did you want to eat anything?”

Connor blinked. Sighing, Gavin cut a piece of toast and pushed it into Connor’s hand. “It’s just white bread, so it’s not the best, but it’s okay.”

The android looked at the piece of toast, confusion clear, but then he shrugged and ate it. “So, what is the best type of bread for toast?” He asked.

“Heavy breads. You know, rye, or maybe like a multi grain.”

“That’s unexpectedly healthy of you.” The android commented, earning a brief glare before his gaze dropped back down to his toast.

“Yeah, well, that is until you drench it in honey.” He retorted, feeling a little better about the whole kiss thing.

Connor narrowed his eyes at Gavin, and he was taken aback at how human it – no, by how _un-Connor_ it was. Strangely, it was that fact that made him want to tackle the android to the ground and kiss him into oblivion.

“Gavin?”

“Huh?”

“You seemed to space out for a second. Are you alright?”

Gavin blinked rapidly. “Yeah, just lost in thought is all.” He swallowed. “You’re always looking to learn more about me, but what about you?” He asked abruptly.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “What kinds of things do you like?”

The android blinked at him again, surprised and confused. “I...well, I guess I never thought about it.” He closed his eyes. “I like the sun. I like dogs.” A smile graced his lips, making Gavin’s heart speed up. “I like Hank.” Immediately, that light feeling thudded to his stomach, making him feel sick. “I like you. I like Markus and Simon and Josh. Maybe not North...”

Gavin forced himself to smile when Connor opened his eyes.

“What about you?”

“I like playing video games. I’m more of a cat person, but I suppose the ball of fluff Hank calls a dog isn’t too bad. I...I guess you’re not too bad either, Connor.” That brought a bright smile to the android’s lips, and Gavin had to squash down his heart. “Tina’s nice.”

Connor leaned forward in his chair. “I was wondering...how did you get that scar?”

“Just some asshole with a knife.” He paused, thinking about what to ask Connor. “How...how many times did you die? When you were working for Cyber Life?”

“Just three. There was a girl on a rooftop, being held captive by a deviant android. I pushed him out of the way and he shot me in the head. It...wasn’t the most pleasant feeling. You saw the second time. The third was when I was in a park with Hank. I...kind of purposely goaded him into shooting me. I was feeling...afraid. Afraid that Cyber Life would sense my deviancy. I thought that if a new model replaced that body, then I’d be able to stamp it out, but when I woke up at Cyber Life, I was...I still felt things I shouldn’t. I still wanted my brethren to succeed.”

Gavin was having a hard time staying in his seat. He wanted nothing more than to press his lips to Connor’s, but his brother’s words echoed in his head, and he didn’t know if Connor would want it, and…

“Oh, fuck it.” He said, right before he pressed his lips to Connor’s.

The android seemed shocked for a second before wrapping his arms around Gavin, tilting his head so that their lips slotted together better, pulling him closer, and oh God, it was nothing like kissing childhood Connor, and that just turned him on even more, making him push even further into it, holding him like he never wanted to let go because he _didn’t…_

And then the kiss changed, and it was like turning back the clock, back to the day he’d hidden underneath Connor’s window, waiting for him to slip out like he usually did, instead hearing voices being raised, the door slamming, Connor nuzzling into his side, their faces turning to each other slowly, lips sliding -

Gavin pulled back, gasping.

“Gavin?” His voice was slightly different from how it had been, but there was no denying it was _him_ – Connor Wilcox, in silicone, back from the dead. Gavin should have been overjoyed. Through all those years, this was the one person he could never get over, but now, he just wanted Connor, his Connor, because he’d...he’d fallen in love.

Anger rushed through his veins. “Come with me. We’re going to pay Elijah a visit.”

 

Hank rubbed at his face, looking through the files they’d compiled. It was a pitifully small amount of information, and Hank felt absolutely awful. How could he have failed both Connor and Gavin so completely – and okay, _maybe_ he cared more about Gavin than he let on, but now was _not_ the time to be thinking about that.

He got up and got himself a coffee, frowning at how hot it was. He looked longingly over to where Connor usually sat. He wished that the android was here to keep him company. On days like this, he would ask Hank questions that were charming because of their naivete.

His gaze moved over to where Reed’s desk was. He missed him, too. The office was too quiet without his usual biting remarks. It honestly felt like they’d both died.

He sank back into his chair, wishing he could just go home, but he had so much paperwork to do…

 

Gavin’s boot smashed into the door, even though it was already open. One of the Chloe’s glared at him, but he ignored her.

“Elijah!” He shouted, turning in circles in his stupid, bare front room. “I’ve got someone who wants to meet you!”

His brother emerged from a hidden door, the room behind him looking like his bedroom. Elijah rubbed at his eyes sleepily. “Gavin? What are you doing?”

“Well, I got to your ‘special feature’. I don’t like it. Take it out.”

Elijah frowned, looking around, dazed. “Gavin, it’s seven in the morning.”

“And? Take it out.” Gavin demanded, unable to stop his voice breaking. “Take it out, Elijah. Give me my Connor back.”

“But this is your Connor, Gavin. I thought this was what you wanted.” Somehow, his voice was halfway between his usual mockery and unfamiliar worry.

The android mentioned came in through the door, a frown on his face. “Gavin? What’s going on?”

“Stay out of this!”

“Have you even _talked_ to him?” Chloe demanded, sounding angry. It took Gavin aback. “Elijah worked hard on giving you an exact copy. This is the Connor you remember, and you want to erase him just like that?”

“I don’t want a copy. I want _my_ Connor back.”

Understanding dawned on his brother’s face. “Oh my god. You fell in love with him, didn’t you?” He breathed, shock plain on his face.

Connor was busy looking confused.

Gavin ignored him. “Take it out, whatever it is that makes him like this.”

Elijah sighed. “Alright. I’ll see what I can do.” He rubbed his forehead. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Not relevant.” Gavin growled. “Just fix him.”

His brother hesitated before nodding, leading the confused android through to his lab. Gavin elected to stay where he was, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at the floor.

 

Blinking his eyes open, Connor sat up, feeling slightly dizzy. He frowned. Dizzy?

“Hey, you back with us?” Elijah’s voice asked, filling the room, which was rather small and dazzlingly white.

“I...where am I?”

“Ah, there he is.” Elijah walked in front of him, putting his hands on Connor’s knees. “Gavin’s going to be happy.”

Connor focused on the small cylindrical object on the table behind Elijah. “What’s that?” Hope blossomed in his chest.

“That?” Elijah picked up the cylinder, turning it over. It still had a little bit of Thirium residue on it. “Well, this is what had the other Connor in it. Do you want to keep it? If you put it back in, you’ll be pushed to the side, but maybe Gavin will want to say goodbye to him before he shoots it into oblivion.” He sighed, handing the part over.

Connor took it with a frown. “What do you mean ‘other Connor’? I just blacked out for a few hours, right?”

Elijah turned and gave him a strange look. “Ask Gavin. He’s sitting out there.” He pointed to a door that was barely visible, blending seamlessly into the white of the walls.

Curiosity gripped him, and he slipped the part into his pocket before pushing the door open. Gavin was sitting in the chair opposite the door, talking softly to Chloe. His heart sped up as he remembered just before he’d blacked out – Gavin’s lips pushing against his own, the warm human flesh unlike anything he’d ever felt before, his lips parting to allow Gavin’s tongue access, and then – nothing.

“Connor?” He sounded wary.

“I’m okay now, Gavin.” He said soothingly. “Your brother told me to ask you about what happened.”

Chloe squeezed his shoulder and drifted off, giving them privacy. Gavin winced. “Can we do this somewhere else?” He sounded pained. “I hate being here. Gives me the creeps.”

Connor hesitated before agreeing. He didn’t want Gavin to run away from this conversation, but his lips were pressed tightly together, his shoulders tense.

When they were in the car and driving aimlessly, Gavin started to speak.

 

His chest tightened, so he cleared his throat.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning.” He said awkwardly, sounding like some fucking fifth grade loser, but fuck it, this was his story, and he’d tell it however the fuck he wanted. “You already know my brother, but my mother was a crazy successful writer, my dad a lawyer. So, we didn’t want for anything when we were growing up, but they were always busy.” He blinked, wanting to close his eyes, but unable to because he was driving.

Swallowing, he pulled off the road, parking at an abandoned shopping centre. “There was a serial killer active in the area when I was fifteen. Chloe, our sister, was ten when she was taken. They found her just a week later, dead, raped, it was...the worst day of my life.

His heart squeezed. “And then my best friend was kicked out of his house for being gay, and that became the worst day of my life, until he was taken too.” He sighed. “The police didn’t want to admit that it was the killer. They wanted it to be just another kid being lured off the streets with the promise of a hot meal or some money. Even when he turned up like the others, they were reluctant to admit it.

He lowered his voice, his hands clasping in his lap. “His name was Connor. Connor Wilcox. Elijah, after making Chloe again, decided I would appreciate another Connor, but then Cyber Life snatched up the designs, tweaked you until you were ready to hunt deviants. It was the code my brother put in you that forced you to be deviant. You were supposed to have the free will my friend had had.

“It hurt, seeing you every day in the office, not knowing who you were, and when you became deviant, you weren’t _quite_ him, and that made it even worse. I missed him.

He turned to Connor, who was staring at him with wide eyes. “And then I fell for you, this you, the real, alive you, and suddenly, I didn’t miss him anymore.”

There was still more to tell – about his drinking, about his anger, about his parents – but for now, he just wanted to spend some time getting reacquainted with the attractive man in front of him.

 

Connor felt the air change, the tension growing between them the longer they waited for their lips to touch. And goodness, did Connor want their lips to touch. He wanted to be on top of Gavin, to be pushing him into the backseat as he fumbled under his clothes and touched him all over, making him mewl and grow hard and…

He closed the distance, pulling Gavin close to him, diving headfirst into the waters of kissing. The man moaned into the kiss, his hand moving around to the back of Connor’s head, sifting through the short hairs at the base of his neck.

Pulling away, Connor led the way into the backseat, beckoning for Gavin to join him, who hastily obliged him, straddling his waist and connecting their lips again, chasing his tongue back into his mouth and exploring freely. At some point – Connor lost track completely – they had divested themselves of clothes, Gavin naked from the waist down, Connor naked from the waist up.

His hand was wrapped loosely around Gavin’s cock, pumping it leisurely, eating all the moans that fell from his mouth.

“C-can you go a l-little faster?” Gavin pleaded, his hips jerking, grinding up into Connor’s grip.

Connor obliged him, wrapping his hand a bit tighter as he did, watching reverently as Gavin chased his orgasm, which seemed to be evading him.

“Ah, Connor...” He gasped against his shoulder, tilting forward. “Put a finger in me?” He moaned, bringing Connor’s fingers to his mouth and sucking one of the digits in. Coating it thoroughly with his saliva, he brought it around to his anus, and moaned again when Connor slowly pushed at the ring of muscles.

“Oh yeah, just like that...” He panted, and Connor sensed he was getting close. Rocking slowly back, he fucked himself onto Connor’s finger, twisting in strange ways until he suddenly moaned loudly, clenching his rectum and semen blurted from the tip of his cock.

Connor continued stroking through Gavin’s orgasm, stopping only when the man batted his fingers away.

He smiled lazily at Connor, then pulled him in for a kiss. “Anything I can do for you?”

“Well...I threw away the penis attachment the people who took me gave me but...Simon said that playing around with my wires might help me feel something?”

Gavin groaned. “Fuck, that’s so hot.” He sat back a bit, looking over Connor’s torso. “So, where do I get in?”

Feeling a little self-conscious, Connor opened up one of his smaller panels and guided Gavin’s fingers to it. “Just...I haven’t done it before, so go slow and gentle, right?”

“Right...” Gavin answered breathlessly, gaze intently focused on the open panel underneath his hovering fingers. His eyes flicked up to Connor’s face right before diving in, sliding his fingers gently down one of Connor’s non-essential wires.

It felt...odd, but Connor was enjoying himself, so he sighed and shifted a little, trying to get Gavin to move deeper without actually asking him to.

Smirking, Gavin pushed his fingers further into the opening, gently stroking things as he went, until the tips of his fingers met something that made Connor melt into the car seat.

“Ho-oh. Look what I found.” He said cheekily, gripping it lightly between his middle and index finger, making Connor see stars. Moving the fingers up and down slowly dragged the first moan out of Connor’s vocal package, and it was absolutely _filthy_. If Connor had been in a fit state of mind, he would have been ashamed.

Gavin pulled his fingers back slightly, and Connor was momentarily disappointed until Gavin’s blunt fingernail scratched lightly at it. Connor cried out and gripped Gavin’s arm tightly.

“Shit. Would you look at that. You’re barely in control...”

Connor hadn’t known if he could reach an orgasm like this, but the same feeling was coiling in his body, making him gasp and shake as Gavin’s fingers continued to do sinful things to his innards. He was reaching a crescendo, every inch of him feeling as though it was on fire, like he was going to burn up, vaporising underneath the sexy human until...until...until…Connor almost screamed when he came, his body jerking violently.

“Whoa, easy there, tiger.” Gavin chuckled, withdrawing his fingers and sliding the panel closed. “I think you were definitely feeling something then.” He said smugly, sitting back onto Connor’s knees as he took the android in. “We should do that more often.”

“More…?”

Gavin laughed. “Guess you’re still not totally back with me yet, huh?” He smiled and pressed his lips to Connor’s.

“I’ll drive us back. You just stay here and rest, okay?”

Connor wasn’t really in a position to argue, so he just closed his eyes and let Gavin slide into the front seat, his consciousness drifting.

 

The house was quiet when Hank got home, so he searched for Gavin and Connor, getting distressed when he didn’t find them. When he’d left, they’d both been asleep, but now, they were gone. He tried to calm himself.

Maybe they’d gone out to dinner, or maybe Gavin had taken Connor to see his cats? Either way, they were so dead when they got home. They could have at least left a note!

The door opened, and Hank was up in seconds. “What happened? Where were you?” He stopped dead when he saw the two looking thoroughly debauched. “Oh, I know you did not leave this house just to have sex.” He growled, dragging Connor behind him. “What did you do? He looks completely out of it.”

“I don’t think he was prepared for his first orgasm.” Gavin said. He sounded smug, the bastard.

Hank growled, but Connor’s hand on his shoulder stopped him from doing anything. “It was amazing, Hank. It felt so good.”

Disgusted, Hank left the two of them to their own business, breaking open a beer and slumping over the kitchen table. This would not go down in his book of good days, even if Connor did look like he was having the time of his life, leaning against Gavin, a blissed-out look on his face, smiling into the chaste kisses they shared.

He grumbled something about being tired before he slunk off to bed, trying to dispel the scenarios his mind conjured up of Gavin fucking his son into oblivion. It didn’t work.

 

“I’ll walk him.” Connor said, standing up and retrieving Sumo’s collar from the rack by the door. “I’m going to have to go outside at some point, right?” He said cheerfully, hoping that Hank just put his good mood down to finally getting to kiss Gavin, an activity they’d done all night, which had slowly but surely evolved into yet another orgasm for both of them before they drifted off to sleep.

Hank had commented that Sumo needed a walk, no doubt wanting to take on that responsibility himself so he could get out of the house, but Connor had had a similar plan. He needed to get the part to Terry, who would, presumably, be somewhere nearby.

Inconspicuously, he felt over his pocket, making sure he had it. It was indeed there, the weight reassuring. He was going to save someone’s life today, and hopefully solve a few more problems, if the tracker on the part worked.

Smiling back at the two men he loved most, he clipped the lead onto Sumo’s collar and walked out the door.

Sure enough, Terry was there, in a car parked just down the road. Connor made his way over, but not directly. Weaving his way through the bushes, bins and cars was easy and soon, he was standing beside Terry’s vehicle.

He knocked on the window, and it immediately rolled down. “I found it.” He said, fishing in his pocket and giving Terry the small object. “I hope it saves you.”

“Thank you.”

Not wanting to look suspicious, Connor continued walking, Sumo bounding and barking happily at the gates where there were other dogs. The Saint Bernard was old, but he was no less lively for it.

Connor got back to Hank’s house after a good half-hour, his pump going wild from chasing after the dog.

He sank back onto the couch, maybe a little too close to Gavin, snuggling into his side and closing his eyes, watching the progress of the tracker as it moved out of town and to a sawmill.

 

Terry handed over the piece, hoping beyond hope that it would sate the man in charge. It was the first time he’d seen him, and he hoped that just because he was in a face-to-face meeting, it wouldn’t mean death. The man was taller than him, but not as muscular. He was imposing, a dark figure in the blackkness of the room.

The man plugged it into the computer on his desk, watching the code scroll past, looking more and more displeased.

“What is this?” The man roared, making Terry shrink back and quiver. “This isn’t – get me the phone.”

Immediately, a phone was being pushed into his hand, and he angrily stabbed at the numbers. “You told me -” He thundered before he was interrupted. More calmly, he continued. “You told me that there would be something valuable in here.”

He waited for the other person to speak.

“No, there isn’t. There’s nothing on here but some programming for specific behaviours. This is useless.” He looked ready to squash the thing in his fist, but then he paused at what the other person was saying, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Oh, really?” He looked more closely at the screen in front of him. “That _is_ worth having.” Another long pause. “It’s hidden well, but I can see it now.” He chuckled – a sound that set Terry on edge. “Elijah really outdid himself this time. Oh, this is going to be...yes, thank you.”

The man’s eyes turned to Terry, and he stiffened under the gaze. “Hmm...now, what to do with you…?”

Terry swallowed, unsure whether he should speak.

“Well, you did do your job, but...you know too much.”

His heart seemed to freeze in his chest, his blood running cold. “No, please.”

The man smiled. It was more of a leer than anything. “Hmm...” He turned to one of his people. “Lock him up with his daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was probably innacurate as hell with reguards to how police work, but hey, it's fun. Hope you all enjoyed. :)

**Author's Note:**

> Phew, I didn't even think I was gonna get this far. It might take a while for another chapter, but I have ideas about what's gonna be in it, so be ready for more of this shitty fic (if you're into it). I don't know if I'm gonna make them a couple yet or not, but I'm leaning more towards it, because I really enjoy seeing them together, but we'll see...  
> Thanks for reading, guys, and please let me know what you thought :)


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